


A Soft Place to Land

by alby_mangroves, Pineau_noir



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Art, Author's note in chapter 7, Blow Jobs, Brock Rumlow is a dick in every universe, Captain America Big Bang 2018 | cabigbang, Chapter 7 is Angst dialed up to 11, Chubby bucky barnes, Dry Humping, Embedded Images, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fanart, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happiest of the happy endings, Happy Ending, Light D/s, M/M, Making out like teenagers, Masturbation, Nerd Bucky Barnes, Peggy Carter is a good friend, Praise Kink, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Sharon Carter Is a Good Bro, Sharon Carter is a good friend, Slice of Life, Slight emotional abuse, Smol Steve Rogers, Smut, Soft Stucky, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Stylist Steve Rogers, even their kink is fluffy, light edging, meet ugly, slight body shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alby_mangroves/pseuds/alby_mangroves, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineau_noir/pseuds/Pineau_noir
Summary: Bucky Barnes grew up thinking he could do anything, and is coming to terms with the fact that his parents might have oversold the idea of being an adult. He's an average 30-something Brooklynite with an average job, an average life, and a (smaller than) average apartment. So, he compares his life to the colorful Instagram pictures his friends post while longing for the excitement and brightness of their online presences.Steve Rogers has his dream job as a master stylist at the Red Room Salon, along with his dream apartment, and almost his dream life. Except, he's terrified of getting too close to people after his last real relationship left him self-conscious of being too hard in both personality and body type. While most of the emotional wounds have healed, their scars still linger.What happens when Steve and Bucky meet one night over an accidental gesticulation gone wild alongside a smack in the face?(Or: the meet-ugly with soft!Bucky; unicorn!haired Steve; good bros Sharon, Nat, and Bobbi; human disaster Clint Barton; everyday hero Sam; plus a side of Spideypool. There's smut, feels, and a story that's a bit more autobiographical than the author intended.)





	1. It’s the hard things that break

**Author's Note:**

> Artist note: thank you to cobaltmoony for the art beta, and to the lovely Mods for their hard work <3
> 
> Author note: I have so many people to thank! Of course [Alby](http://artgroves.tumblr.com) for her amazing art and some great notes on the story itself (y'all she's the whole package, good at art, good at writing, good at beta reading, and good at just being a wonderful person), [Daphneblithe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphneblithe) for being such a fantastic human, beta, cheerleader, and friend, [Halbereth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halbereth) for jumping into the doc and teaching me the correct way to spell "OK" ;-) as well as cleaning up several messes, [notlucy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notlucy) for listening to me whine and offering to read my smut and give me pointers, [Coldwinterrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eris13/pseuds/coldwinterrose), [Bennettmp339](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennettmp339), [Sable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lecroixss), and all the other people in the CapBB chat who helped me, cheered me on. and generally made me feel like this isn't garbage.  
> Thanks to the mods and all the participants for making this such an enjoyable experience for me.
> 
> Chapters will post every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until October 19th.

 

It wasn’t that Bucky was destitute. No, in fact he pulled in a decent paycheck from his job that he didn’t _hate_ but by no means loved. No, the problem stemmed from the fact that he had aimlessly meandered from major to major in undergrad and then he needed a master’s degree to get said job. He was drowning in student debt. That was the reason he had two roommates in a two bedroom apartment in Bed-Stuy. With thin walls. Which meant he could hear _everything._

“Oh, Wade, yes—right—right there!” gasped asshole roommate number one, Peter.

“Yeah, take it, Petey,” growled asshole roommate number two, Wade.

Bucky considered banging on the wall. He considered drinking until the rhythmic pounding in the next room faded into background noise. He considered turning on some techno from his high school wannabe raver phase. In the end, he decided to just leave. He did slam the front door on his way out but, by the way things sounded, the amorous activities had ceased.

Like most things in his life, Bucky was ambivalent about his roommates. They were nice guys, happily in love, but ten years ago, when he had imagined his life, he didn’t see himself in a mediocre job, living in a tiny apartment, with roommates who made him feel a twinge of jealousy when they shared a loving touch or glance. He wasn’t the depressed teen of his past, regular therapy and medicine made sure of that, but he was by no means happy.

Bucky had grown up in the late 80s and early 90s with the generation who told their children they could “be anything”. And yeah, sure, when he was a kid and had dreams he thought he might be an astronaut or paleontologist or veterinarian. But here he was, 32 years old, with a desk job, afraid he had peaked in high school.

He reached the ground floor and stepped out into the street. He took a couple of deep breaths, enjoying the slight crispness to the air now that the muggy summer had changed into fall. He sent a quick text to Sam asking if he wanted to meet up at the Black Swan for a beer and maybe something fried.

Sam quickly texted back an affirmative and Bucky ambled the few blocks to the pub. He knew he would have to wait on Sam so he grabbed a table and ordered them both beers while he waited. He indulged in his favorite time waster, scrolling through Instagram and wondering if his friends’ lives were _that_ much better than his or if in fact, they only posted the most exciting, flattering aspects of their lives. He strongly believed it was a mix of the two. His own Instagram consisted of exactly two pictures: a photo of him and his niece the day his sister, Becca, gave birth, and a picture of him and Becca when they were 11, both with braces and pimples and in full on grunge clothing.

“Hey man, you know you can’t compare your life to the internet lives of your friends,” Sam stated as he sat down. “What’s up?”

Bucky sighed. “I just—I just thought my life would be different, ya know? I had all this direction and drive to do something big and now I’m existing. I just exist. I wake up and work, then I meet you in a bar. We may hike on the weekends but there’s nothing that gives me that—that spark I had when I was younger.

“And I don’t even have my own space! I share a 700 square foot apartment with two guys still in their honeymoon phase. Whereas _my_ last meaningful relationship was a couple of years ago and my one attempt at a fling was with Bobbi. And we both know how that turned out. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s one of my best friends but having _that_ as my only attempt at casual sex is kind of a boner killer. I’ve gone on dates but they rarely go anywhere.” Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Fuck, sorry to go all maudlin on you, man.”

Sam smiled gently. “No worries. And I understand what you’re saying. A relationship won’t fix you, but it really helps to have somebody close like that when life is shitty.

“But let’s go out this weekend. Somewhere _not_ drinking. ‘Cause we’re getting older, and man, I just cannot bounce back from a hangover like I used to. How about we go halfsies on a Zipcar and drive out to Bear Mountain and spend the day communing with nature?”

“That sounds great, Sam. Thanks. You’re a good friend.”

“James Barnes, I am the _best_ of friends and don’t you forget it.” Both men chuckled at that.

“Hey, as much as I’m enjoying all of this cheerleading for Sam, I’ve gotta take a leak. I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks for sharing every detail! I really value that part of our friendship!” shouted Sam as Bucky walked away.

Bucky noticed the table of people when he walked by to go to the bathroom; he felt like everybody in the bar noticed them. They were all some of the most beautiful people he had ever seen. There was a redhead, whose pale skin was strategically revealed by her little black dress and fuck me boots and a brunette whose red lipstick and soft curls reminded Bucky of the femme fatales in those old movies Sam loved so much. The willowy blonde had a smile so bright and beautiful, Bucky thought she could have been in a toothpaste commercial. There was a distinguished older man in what Bucky assumed was a bespoke suit, it fit so well, and a Latina woman who had curly hair that shone, even in the dim lighting. Finally there was a shorter man, who was all angles, from his jawline that could cut diamonds, to his collar bones that stuck out of his v-neck shirt, to his legs in skinny jeans that were almost painted on. The track light overhead might as well have been a spotlight given how much attention as it brought him. His platinum blond hair was styled in an undercut, but it had volume. It was sort of a fluffy undercut? Bucky liked the way it looked, both structured on the top but a little floppy in the front. The platinum color came out of his sharp left part to edge highlights of gradient pinks and purples. The whole effect reminded Bucky of a unicorn’s horn and he felt a slight surge of jealousy for this man who seemed so vibrant, so alive, so unlike Bucky and his constant case of ennui.

\-----

A flash of burgundy caught Steve's eye and he stopped paying attention to his friends altogether. The guy passing by them was tall and warm, with light blue eyes, creamy skin, and long, dark brown hair. Steve wanted to run his hands through the silky strands, he wanted to curl up with him on a rainy day, he wanted to nip at his plush bottom lip. The guy’s body language screamed “soft” and “safe” and Steve felt his heart _ache_ because those two things were what he wanted most in life. But there was no way someone like that would want someone hard like Steve. He had a fleeting moment of self-pity and shook it off when Peggy started to speak again.

  


“Steve, darling, the entire point of this evening is to focus on me and how wonderful _I_ am and celebrate _my_ accomplishments,” Peggy said with her posh accent. “Not to complain about your job and look at pretty boys.” Her bright red lips curved in a smile and there was a definite twinkle in her eye.

“Yes, Peggy, _darling_ ,” Steve snarked, “let's celebrate you. And how beautiful you are. And how handsome your new fiancée is. And how—”

“Do be quiet, _darling_ , you’re taking all the fun out of my teasing,” Peggy replied with a huff. “Please go on with your story about your nightmare client.” Steve smiled at her.

The entire table groaned. “Joy,” spat out Natasha.

“I do not understand how that woman can be so flighty and cheap! She’s a national news anchor! She must be rolling in money,” added Sharon.

“So, yes, I have a regular, code-named Joy, because I really can’t badmouth clients, especially when they are semi-famous—”

“Wait, but you call her Joy?” interrupted Peggy.

“Because she’s such a _joy_ to work with,” interjected Tony.

“If I may,” said Steve. “Anyway, she comes in for a keratin treatment every three months. Everything about my job has some fun aspect, except the keratin. You are literally flat ironing chemicals into someone’s hair. It stinks, it’s hot, it takes fucking forever. It makes my back hurt, and it’s like lifting weights. I hate it. Now this woman has long hair, like well past shoulder length. It takes hours for this process. During which she has to borrow a phone charger from one of the assistants and harasses America into modifying all of her future appointments. And this is on a Saturday, literally our busiest day!

“So, three hours later, I’m covered in sweat, I need some water before I fall on my ass, Joy is just chattering away about god knows what, and she finally gets up to leave. I go and drink like a gallon of water and head up to the front desk.”

“Where I have just finished helping her,” America chimed in, “and she claimed she has no cash for a tip but she will make it up to Steve next time, _she promises._ ”

“She says that every time!” Steve shouted and threw his hands up in frustration and some fucking petty deity out there must really hate Steve because as soon as he reached the apex of his arm fling, the cute, soft boy walked by, resulting in Steve smacking said soft boy in the middle of his face.

“Shit!” squeaked Steve. “I’m so sorry! Are you OK?”

“Ha! Yeah, you’re surprisingly strong,” he as he rubbed his nose.

“This is Steve,” Sharon said and pushed Steve away from the table. Steve closed his eyes and took a quick breath. Sharon was an amazing roommate but if she didn’t quit trying to set him up with strangers, her next balayage was going to be more of a tiger-striped look and less of a gentle ombre effect.

“Hi, I’m Bucky, it’s good to meet you, Steve. I’ll—I’ll let you get back to your friends.”

“No! No, let me buy you a drink as an apology?” Steve asked with a soft smile, putting all of his unused flirting skills to the test. “Unless you have somewhere to be?” he said as he fluttered his eyelashes a little. He might not flirt a lot but his best friends were girls, he could flirt like a Jane Austen heroine and he wasn’t ashamed of it.

Bucky turned the most adorable shade of pink. “No, I’m just here with a friend, I’ll let him know I’ll be at the bar for a bit.” He walked back to his table to talk to his friend while Steve felt a grin take over his face.

“Steven Grant Rogers, if you don't climb that man like a tree we will all be disappointed in you!” Sharon whispered.

“I actually agree with Sharon about this. Don’t upset this rare moment of familial bonding,” added Peggy.

Steve looked at Nat for help. She shrugged. “I think the Carters are right. For once.”

“Go get him, Tiger!” shouted America and blushed. “Sorry, that was too loud! I should stop drinking. Right after I finish my buy one get one drinks.”

Steve looked to Tony. He gave Steve a stern look. “You need to do this for you but mostly you need to do this for all of us. America is still in the smitten stage with Kate, Peggy just got engaged, Nat won’t tell us anything about her love life which is good because Sharon tells us _everything_ , and I’m in a long-term, committed relationship. You are the unknown quantity in this situation. We need this. We need a win. We need new gossip at the salon.

“Go jump this sweet man for you, but mostly so we can all hear about it on Wednesday.”

Steve’s nostrils flared as he took several deep breaths. “Not helping,” he growled. He felt a light tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, I let Sam know I was gonna hang out with you. So about that drink?” Bucky asked, still with a slight blush to his cheeks. Steve was a goner. He led Bucky to the bar. His friends were great, but he didn’t need them to have front row seats to his first conversation with this soft boy. Steve hopped up on a barstool and watched Bucky do the same.

“Yeah, whatever you’re having, on me. And tell me a little about yourself while we drink?”

“Oh, I’m nothing special, born and raised here in Brooklyn, my parents are in Crown Heights but I live here in Bed-Stuy. I’ve got a decent job. I get to work from home, that part's nice, but it’s a pretty boring job. It mostly pays the bills. I have two roommates, Wade and Peter.” He chuckled. “God, my life sounds so sad summed up like that.”

Steve didn't think his life sounded sad, just ordinary, calm, safe— honestly, all the things Steve wanted in his life. He’d had enough excitement and bad decisions in his 20s; he was looking for something solid, something soft.

“You just sound like a normal 30-something guy. Besides, we’re in the boring part of our conversation anyway. Once we get this part over with, we can find out the interesting things about each other.

“I live and work in Brooklyn Heights. My roommate is the bossy blonde who needs to learn to mind her own damn business. I’m a master stylist at the Red Room salon. My hobbies are drinking coffee and beating up Nazis.”

Bucky laughed at that. “You run into a lot of Nazis in Brooklyn Heights?”

“You would be surprised,” Steve replied cryptically. “OK, so tonight’s meet and greet portion of the conversation is over. You now have two choices: we can finish our beers in silence and part ways, or we can move to more interesting topics. I’m fine with either, I don’t want to put you on the spot if you’re just in this for an apology drink.”

“No, no, I’m totally digging this awkward conversation,” Bucky said and grinned.

Steve returned his grin. This boy was going to give him all the schmoopy feelings. “Yes, I agree. Nothing like summing up our lives game show style.”

“Exactly! I’ll do you and you do me? Er, um, like….” Steve laughed as Bucky’s cheeks were tinged with pink again.

“Dude, you’re super cute when you blush. Yeah, I know what you mean. And sure, I’ll start.

“Bucky is in his 30s and comes from Brooklyn. He has gorgeous blue eyes and is the human equivalent of a hug. His hobbies include being hit in the face by randos, drinking beer at a British themed pub, and deep conditioning his hair. He’s a…?”

“QA Engineer.”

“He’s a QA Engineer, you will have to tell me what that is at some point,” Steve whispered, “and works from home. His favorite movie is…?”

“ _Coco_ and _The Princess Bride_.”

“His favorite movies are _Coco_ and _The Princess Bride_ because apparently, he is eight.”

“Hey! They're legitimately good movies!”

Steve laughed. “I can’t do much better, my favorite movies are _The Last Unicorn_ and the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy.”

They took a moment to grin at each other.

“Ok, my turn,” Bucky said. “Steve's also in his 30s and from Brooklyn. He has unicorn hair and gives strange compliments. He and his friends say they work at a salon but are secretly models. His hobbies include hitting strangers in the face in bars and taking down fascism. His favorite colors are pink and purple?”

Steve nodded.

“And he has a great sense of humor.

“So what made you go into,” Bucky waved his hand like he was trying to find the right words about Steve’s career without being insulting.

Steve saved him. “Cosmetology. That’s the broad term. But I’m a stylist, _not_ a hairdresser.”

Bucky nodded. “Good to know. So what made you decide being a stylist was what you wanted to do? Was someone in your family an influence?”

“No. My mom was a nurse and my dad, strangely enough, was in the Army.” Steve let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Clearly I got my build from my mom. But it was something I had been interested in as a child. I, um, always knew I was gay? And Cyndi Lauper was such a positive influence when I was a kid. I loved her hair as soon as I saw it. I mean, she was revolutionary! She had what we now call fashion colors, decades ago. She had a side shave cut in the _80s_. She was on the cutting edge of hair and she cared about people like me, and she had some great music.

“And then I just got caught up in the world. There's so much freedom to create. I know it sounds dumb,” he glanced at Bucky who shook his head. “But it’s just really fun and I get to travel for classes and stuff. And I mean, I’m finally at the level where I can charge prices that get my bills paid and I have extra left over.

“So, that’s me, what about you? You’re an engineer? That’s cool.”

Bucky took a sip from his beer. “I’m a QA engineer. That’s Quality Assurance, nothing like what people imagine an engineer is. I basically look at what programmers do and make sure the program runs like it’s supposed to.”

“That’s sounds interesting—” Steve started.

“Ha, thanks. But no, it’s super boring. I went to school for math and physics and this is _not_ where I thought I would end up. But whatever.”

Steve was honestly impressed. He was by no means dumb but his talents lay elsewhere. He could do some basic addition but anything more involved was something he was not interested in. Steve glanced down at his phone.

“Shit! It's getting late! I have a 9 AM client tomorrow. Ugh, I _hate_ the morning!”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, same.”

Steve couldn't remember a time he had smiled and laughed and felt so at ease with a stranger at a bar. His cheeks actually ached a little from smiling. He felt a sudden surge of shyness take over.

“Um. If you want, no pressure! But, let me put my number in your phone?”

Bucky blushed again. “Sure, I'll send you a quick text back. I never thought I would say this, but I'm really glad you smacked me.”

They said their goodbyes and Steve found Sharon so they could take the train home.

They had just boarded when he felt his pocket vibrate.

 **[3475552974]** Hey it's Bucky. Glad I got to meet you

“Did you get his number? Steve!! Did you get the soft boy’s number?” Steve could barely hear Sharon over the noises from the train.

He grinned and nodded and bit his lip. “I think I really like him.”

“Then I guess I have to copy America and say ‘go get him, Tiger!’”

\-----

It felt like Bucky’s feet didn’t touch the ground on the walk home.

He couldn’t believe his luck. The hot guy he had noticed, and maybe internally drooled over, bought a drink for him. After Steve, his name was Steve, had smacked Bucky in the face, sure, but then instead of letting Bucky return to Sam, he bought him a drink! An apology drink, but it still counted. And Steve flirted with him! They had a fun conversation and somewhat witty banter. Well, Steve’s was witty; Bucky felt like his tongue was a little too big for his mouth half of the conversation. He must have done something right, because they exchanged numbers!

He walked into his apartment, did the bare minimum to get ready for bed; teeth brushed, dirty clothes aimed at the laundry basket, and flopped onto his soft mattress.

“This has been the best evening,” he whispered to himself.

The next morning Bucky was so warm and comfy and happy. He could hear Peter and Wade murmuring in the kitchen and could smell coffee, pancakes, and bacon. _This_ was one big reason he stayed at the apartment, even with the obnoxious sex noises. They always apologized with breakfast food for running him out of the house.

He rolled over and checked his phone. He had one text from Bobbi letting him know that she was on her way over for breakfast. He had about ten minutes to relax before he had to get up and get dressed. He hardcore cuddled his pillow and snuggled back into the covers.

He woke back up to banging on his door.

“Bucky! I know you fell back asleep! We’re not waiting for you!” shouted Bobbi.

“Ugh, I’ll be out in a minute. Don’t eat all the bacon!”

She just laughed.

He barely made himself presentable; after all, everyone in the apartment had seen him naked at one point in their lives, so messy bed hair was nothing to be ashamed of. An oversized t-shirt, some exercise pants that admittedly had never really seen him exercise, and he was ready to go.

“I got you a cup of coffee, dear,” Wade said and handed Bucky his favorite mug, steaming and fragrant.

“Thanks,” he grunted.

“Sorry, we got loud again,” Peter said, face turning red.

“We can start hanging a sock on the door if you want,” added Wade. Peter hit him and a furious whispered argument began.

“We are _not_ doing that, Wade! We aren’t in college and—”

“Baby boy, I try to keep things quiet but you keep—”

“Don't finish that sentence! I won’t have sex with you for a week!”

“Ha! OK, sweetheart, if you say so. But—”

Bucky had to interrupt, the secondhand embarrassment was getting to him. “Whatever, guys. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Three sets of eyes turned towards him.

“Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?” asked Bobbi.

“It’s just, they’re just happy, and I don’t want them to fight and we can work something out, ya know? It’s ok.”

“I second what Bobbi said, who are you and what have you done with our vaguely disapproving roommate?”

“Wade! Be nice! Bucky's a great roommate!”

“No, seriously, Bucky, what’s up? You’re never this laid back in the morning.” Bobbi said.

“I—um— _Igotaguy’snumber,_ ” he mumbled in a rush.

“You WHAT?!? That’s great! Who is he, tell us all about him!” exclaimed Wade. “Is he good enough for our Bucky bear? Where did you meet him, how did you meet him, what does he do, does he go to church, what do his parents do, tell us everything!”

“OK, let’s ignore the fact that you just channeled my mother, Wade. But seriously Bucky, tell us all about him! This is great news!” Bobbi said with a big smile.

“His name is Steve, he’s _gorgeous_ , he works at a salon in Brooklyn Heights, he has pink and purple hair, and he’s a huge nerd.”

“Did you—did you make him with science? Because I love you, but you know genetically engineering your perfect match is highly unethical,” joked Wade.

“No, you asshole. He was at the Black Swan while Sam and I were there and he accidentally hit me in the face. So he bought me an apology drink and we talked and laughed for over an hour before he had to go home because he works on Saturdays.”

“We need all day to talk about this. Peter, Wade, movie and snuggling on the couch while Bucky tells us more about Steve?”

They both nodded.

“I’ll get the popcorn,” Peter added.

“Oh my god, Peter, we literally just finished breakfast,” groaned Bobbi.

\-----

Steve’s morning had gone by in a blur. He usually had a full book on Saturdays and today was no exception. But he kept feeling a smile cross his face at random moments. Like when his first client had a light blue shirt on, almost the color of Bucky’s eyes. And his kid’s cut told him his favorite movie was _Coco_.

“That’s a big dumb grin you’ve got on your face, Rogers,” Natasha said later in the color room. “I take it you were successful in wooing the cute boy from last night?”

“Don’t let this turn into gossip and I’ll tell you all about it,” Steve replied as he started mixing color and developer for his next client.

Natasha mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.

“He’s so sweet and cute, Nat! I just want to keep him away from all the bad things in the world!”

She smiled. “Good to know. You'll have to bring him by sometime.”

His interactions with his other co-workers did not go as smoothly.

Tony especially was all too happy to poke and prod. He cornered him in the break room.

“Come on, Steve! I need details! We all saw you flirt with that guy last night. We need to know what you talked about and if you're going to see him again!”

Steve could feel his temper flare. He enjoyed working with Tony, but the man could be very intrusive. He _always_ knew how to annoy Steve with his personal questions and his nitpicking. Steve started picking at his cuticles and glared at Tony.

“We hit it off. That's all you need to know,” he replied shortly.

“OK, _OK_ , I'll back off. But we, hell, _I_ just want you to be happy.”

“I know, Tony. But you know it's hard—”

“Yeah, hard since assface. I understand, kid. No hard feelings?”

“Yeah, we're good. Let's drop it for now?”

Tony clapped him on the shoulder. “’Course, man. Let's go do some hair.”

He went out to his client, a regular who had a couple of odd quirks. He hated mirrors so Steve always had to throw a cape over the mirror. Steve didn’t mind; he understood being self-conscious and not wanting to watch himself for an hour. And Steve needed the full hour for the cut and subsequent blow dry. He had the thickest hair Steve had ever encountered. It was beautiful and so healthy but [Mr. De Ville](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Count_Dracula), no first name, liked to come get it trimmed so it wouldn’t grow too long. Steve didn’t know how he seemed to never have split ends but maybe he had somehow found a [miracle cure](https://www.webmd.com/heart/anatomy-picture-of-blood) in his homeland.

Mr. De Ville also was prone to migraines, so Steve had to keep the lights as low as he could. This made Steve’s job a little harder but Mr. De Ville always tipped generously and was very kind and courteous during the cut. He was soft spoken and had a lingering Romanian accent and Steve was oddly charmed by him. Few of the other stylists were willing to put up with his eccentricities, but Steve knew what felt like to be different, so he was always happy to see the dapper gentleman.

Steve was turning Mr. De Ville’s service ticket in to the front desk when America smiled at him and winked. He narrowed his eyes at her. She fluttered her lashes in response. Steve rolled his eyes. America blew him a kiss. Steve cracked his knuckles. She licked her lips in what Steve thought was supposed to be a seductive manner. Steve broke character and grinned.

After winning their daily game of “Can America make Steve smile?” America’s face turned serious. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, but how did last night go? We all could see you talking and smiling with that guy. You looked like you had a good time.”

Steve smiled a little. “Yeah, we really seemed to hit it off. And I don’t really have time—”

“Yeah, I know, Saturdays, right? OK, fill us in on the good gossip when you have some free time, Steve.”

He sighed and went to grab his next client.

Finally, Steve's day was over. He was walking home with Sharon when he felt his phone buzz.

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** Hope you had a good day at work!

He felt a smile take over his face.

\-----

“Soooo...comfy....”

“Bucky, I need to pee,” whined Bobbi.

“Can’t move my legs, got no bones,” he mumbled back.

“Well, then your other option is for me to pee on your head.”

He whipped his head up. “OK, fine. But I want everyone to acknowledge that I was comfy and Bobbi ruined it.”

“Sweetie, I hate to tell you this, but your roommates like me better than you.”

Bucky glared at her. “That can’t be true. I’m a _delight_.”

Wade patted his feet. “Sorry, man, but Bobbi’s not wrong,” Wade said, firing off a pair of finger guns at her as she walked out of the room.

Bucky looked at Peter who was across the room in an armchair, engrossed in something on his phone. “Peter, are you hearing this?”

Peter looked up. “Wha—sorry, what? I was _not_ paying attention. But I agree with whatever Bobbi said.”

Bucky let out a mock wail.

“Maybe _Steve_ will like you better, after all, he might want to suck—” Wade started to say with a leer.

“Ew, don’t make it gross, Wade. Bucky seems to have really hit it off with this guy. Don’t go all pervy.”

Bobbi walked back into the room. “I don’t know what Peter is referring to but I wholeheartedly agree to Wade not being a perv.”

Bucky glared at her. “I suppose you want your seat back,” he grumbled.

“You like using me as a pillow,” she countered.

“Fine.”

Curled back up on his bestie and roomie, Bucky was content to think about Steve. They hadn’t had a chance to text much because Steve had let him know Saturdays were his busiest day at the salon. But he was content to cuddle with his friends.

“So, Bucky, did Steve tell you what salon he works at?” Bobbi asked.

“Red something. He said it was in Brooklyn Heights. Why?”

“Just wanna google it and see what kind of stuff he does. Red Hair Beauty Salon or The Red Room Salon?”

“Red Room,” he answered as he snuggled into her more.

“Oh, Bucky, that’s a _nice_ salon. Like high-end stylists. Your Steve must be talented.”

“OK, he’s not _my_ Steve—”

“Not yet!” interrupted Peter.

“ _Nice_ , Petey!” shouted Wade.

Bucky rolled his eyes. He moved so he could see Bobbi’s phone, which had the Red Room’s website visible on the screen.

“What the _shit_?” he sputtered. “People pay _how much_ for a haircut?”

“You sweet, sweet, clueless boy. This is a high-end salon. These stylists are at the top of their fields. They have years of training and skill. It’s not Great Clips; these are seasoned pros. They have to be on the cutting edge in both cuts and color techniques. They are artists in their own rights. They have to balance color and texture on a moving canvas. It’s amazing what they do and it takes a lot of time, effort, and talent to get to the level of experience to command these prices.

“The beauty industry is a multibillion-dollar machine and haircare and styles are a big part of that.”

The three men stared at Bobbi.

“What? You think being a girl is like being a guy? There’s so much more pressure on us to look and act a certain way. I’m not saying that things are easy for y’all, but there’s so much bullshit about being a woman.

“If you’re thin like me, you are encouraged to eat junk food. If you’re overweight, no matter if you’re perfectly healthy, you are mocked and shamed if you eat anything that’s deemed ‘unhealthy’. But it’s all in your best interest because even strangers are ‘concerned about your health’.

“I have a PhD in Biochemistry from Georgia Tech but because I’m tall, thin, and blonde, I get called honey and sweetheart and asked to run out for coffee for the ‘bosses’ by strangers. I am accomplished in multiple martial arts disciplines, but men at bars still want to come up and protect me. It’s infuriating!

“And don’t even get me started on the lack of sex ed and understanding about a woman’s body!” She looked around the room. “I would apologize but honestly I’ve said nothing untrue and I’m working against society’s expectations that I be meek and mild and never raise my voice.”

“Fuck yeah, Bobbi!” shouted Wade. “Kick the patriarchy in the gee-nads!”

“I am _so_ hearteyes at you right now,” Bucky said.

Peter perked up. “Look, I know it’s a running joke that I always agree with you Bobbi, but that speech is why I _always_ agree with you. I’ve known you long enough to know that I trust whatever you say, I will agree with.”

Bobbi looked at the men and the room and smiled. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, do you want to see some of Steve’s work? They linked his Instagram account on the site. He’s created some pretty amazing stuff.”

“Yeah! I definitely want to see what he's done!” Bucky answered.

They scrolled through the pictures on his account. Bucky was astounded at the pictures. There was a woman with crayon yellow hair and a blunt cut; there was a man with long hair that had delicate blue, green, and purple highlights blended into his black hair; there were pictures of Steve painting colors onto wigs _and_ people. Bucky saw pictures of people with braids and curls and updos so intricate that he couldn’t even imagine how they were created.

“Damn. I’m not saying I doubted you Bobbi, but damn. He’s amazing,” Bucky murmured.

“Oh em gee, Bucky, you have to marry this man and have his artist babies,” Wade said.

“Honey, that’s terrible science, but yeah, Bucky, have Steve’s babies,” Peter added.

“I think we’re all in agreement,” Bobbi said. “You should definitely see where things go with Steve.”

\-----

The next day Bucky and Sam _did_ go hiking. Briefly. Steve started sending Bucky texts that morning and so, instead of hiking, Bucky spent most of his time giggling and texting him back. Sam got so frustrated he finally gave in, with a huge sigh, and they drove back to Brooklyn.

“Man, I thought this was supposed to be _our_ time. Not texting time. Oh my god, I’ve turned into my grandmother. Bucky, the stress of being your friend has aged me 50 years. Thanks. I can’t believe you’re throwing our decades-long friendship out for a hot guy.” Sam grumbled. “And how is it I ended up driving both to the trail _and_ back? That’s _not cool,_ man.”

Bucky glanced over at Sam. “Are you talking to me?” he asked with a poorly concealed grin.

“Shut the hell up, Bucky. You're a punk and you know it. I have no idea why we're still friends.” Sam kept muttering under his breath and unsuccessfully glaring at Bucky as they both battled laughter the rest of the drive home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve's Instagram is based on [this account](https://instagram.com/jessswitzer_hair). It's _amazing!_
> 
> Also, the whole Mr. De Ville is because of Quarra and a late night chat. She was like "Dracula should be in everything" and I was like ( _shrugs_ ) "You're not wrong".
> 
> We are [Alby_mangroves](https://artgroves.tumblr.com) and [Pineau_noir](https://pineau-noir.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


	2. Soft things don’t break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's flirting, a lunch date, and Steve's imagination.
> 
> This is a NSFW chapter. _wink_

Steve loved his job. He loved his clients; he loved being able play with color and texture and see how a good haircut or a fun color change would change a person’s self esteem. He loved going to different cities and taking classes on new techniques and styles. He knew he would have gotten bored in a career that was the same day after day, a job that was static; Steve loved learning new things. But what he _really_ loved about his job was the fact that he only had to work four days a week. It was late morning and Steve was still in bed when his phone buzzed.

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** Mondays are the worst

 **[me]** I don’t mind them. The salon is closed 

**[buckywiththegoodhair]** I’m never speaking to you again

Steve barked out a laugh. His phone buzzed again.

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** That’s not true. But I do have to work. I have a conference call in a few minutes. I hate them. I’m an introvert! I picked a job in a field where I shouldn’t have to interact with people. And yet, here I am, interacting with people!

Steve smiled and stretched in bed. He felt warm and _happy_. He was all alone in the apartment, Sharon having spent the night with her current paramour. He felt a brief surge of jealousy for Sharon; she could allow herself to be vulnerable enough to become intimate with someone she barely knew but at the same time was secure enough to pursue anyone she was interested in. She was extremely comfortable and confident in her own skin, something Steve _definitely_ was not.

He shook off thoughts of his roommate and started thinking about Bucky. He had to admit to himself that he had a crush. Steve had been dragged, a _tad_ reluctantly, to the pub by his friends the night they met. He had expected to socialize for a couple of hours and then head home. Instead he met someone funny and charming, someone sweet and adorable. He thought about how his hair had looked so soft and shiny, even in the poor lighting, how his lips were pink and plush, how his eyes the color of the arctic sky, how his smile lit up his entire face. He idly speculated about how Bucky might look with sex mussed hair, lips pink from sharp, biting kisses, sweat beading at his temples. Steve wondered what sounds he might make; if he was loud and boisterous or if he made small, desperate noises. 

He started to feel a tingling sensation at his core. It had been a few days since he had been truly alone and he decided to take advantage of his solitude. He shimmied out of his boxers and vaguely debated the ethics of masturbating to the image of a guy he had just met. Deciding it was fine, that his Catholic guilt could be ignored, he lay on his back as he started to stroke his abdomen, briefly rubbing his nipples on the way up and teasing himself as he scritched his nails into his pubic hair. He thought more about Bucky and imagined him in Steve’s bed, the contrast of his dark hair spread across the white sheets, his face flushed. Steve squirmed a little bit as he started to get a little hard from the light teasing and mental images of a post-sex Bucky.

He added a little pressure, a little bite of his fingernails, to his nipples and let out a gasp. His hands moved further down as he gently cupped his half-hard cock. Giving it a few loose tugs, he thought more about Bucky: about tasting him, finding his hot spots, figuring out what made him _beg_. He kept tweaking his nipples with his left hand, the small sharp pain making his pleasure more intense as his cock finally hardened.

He reached over to the drawer in his bedside table and grabbed his lube. Slicking up his hand, he made his grip as tight as he could stand. His foreskin moved up and down the head and he grunted at the sensation. He wanted, _god_ , he wanted everything. He wanted to open Bucky up, to have Bucky open _him_ up. He wanted to push inside Bucky’s tight entrance and stay there, still, until they were both gasping, to move as slowly as possible so they both went mindless with lust. Steve’s hand stayed at a slow pace, as he imagined how it would feel if he was inside Bucky instead of inside his own palm. His hips shifted as he denied himself the speed his body craved.

He knew he could get off quickly if he sped up, but sometimes being denied what he wanted in bed—with his consent, of course— was more fun. So he kept to the slow speed, tight grip. Kept imagining making Bucky grunt as he would pull out and then slowly push back in. Steve bent his knees so he could lift his hips up into his hand, start fucking into his grasp. He added his left hand so he could create a tight channel to fuck into, his cock being more than slick enough from the lube and the precome to add a mostly dry hand. His breath started to get a little rough as his focus narrowed to what he was feeling between his legs.

He sped up the movement of his hips just the slightest bit, but it was enough to make him bite back a curse. He bit his lower lip as he moved from feeling good to chasing his orgasm. WIth self-control he had won at a high cost, he kept to his slow pace, even when his body was screaming for more. He pulled down his foreskin so his head was completely exposed and gently teased his tip, rubbing it with the palm of his left hand. After a few minutes his need for release won out and he stilled his hips, removed his left hand and sped up his right. A couple of strokes and his eyes squeezed shut as he felt pleasure streak up his body. A few more strokes after that and he was gasping as his cock shot hot come over his stomach and hand.

He kept lazily moving his hand as he gasped through the aftershocks. When his breathing went back to normal he grimaced a little at the sensation of cooling jizz on his stomach. He reached over for the _second_ -most used item in his bedside table drawer, and quickly and efficiently cleaned himself up with the wipes. He hoped that this didn’t make things awkward with Bucky the next time he saw him and chuckled a little. 

Steve rolled out of bed so he could get in the shower and clean up properly, grabbing his phone on the way. He didn’t have any new messages, but he wasn’t expecting any. He did however cue up Florence + The Machine’s new album to sing along to while he showered.

\-----

Bucky was having a great morning. His job was as mind-numbingly boring as ever, but the intermittent texts from Steve kept a smile on his face. Steve was so clever and quick with his humor. Anytime Bucky had a moment when he wasn’t staring at the screen of his laptop, he was typing on his phone. After his conference call, during which he only said one word (his name to let the room know he was there), he stood up, stretched a little, and decided to take his lunch. 

His routine was to walk several blocks to his favorite coffee shop and grab a milky and sweet coffee. He didn’t have a favorite; he enjoyed trying out the seasonal specials and had worked his way through the menu at least twice. He grabbed a latte and a sandwich and had settled into his favorite chair when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

 **[Steve]** Still on your conference call?

He took a picture of his lunch as a reply.

 **[Steve]** That looks good!

 **[me]** Yeah, I come here a lot on my lunch break. I sit so much when I work that I like to get out and walk a little on my break

 **[Steve]** I can honestly say that I don’t know what that’s like. I am on my feet most of the day so when I get a break, I want to rest

 **[me]** That sucks

 **[Steve]** Eh, I’m used to it. I’ve been doing it for years

They texted the rest of Bucky’s lunch. In fact, they texted until his break was over, forcing him to speed walk the six blocks back to his building. He got back into the apartment, only to find out that the programmer he was currently working with had nothing new to check so he sat at the kitchen table, flushed and a little sweaty, but happy.

He took a picture of the black box on his laptop screen that showed the lines of code running.

 **[me]** This is what I do all day. It’s so boooooooooring

 **[Steve]** I have no idea what that is

 **[me]** Ugh, it’s what the software developer wrote. I get to fix the mistakes.

 **[Steve]** You ginormous nerd

Bucky chuckled.

 **[me]** Yeah, pretty much

Their texting continued throughout the day. Bucky found out that, in addition to being a master stylist, Steve had a BA in business. Bucky told Steve about his difficulty finding a job that he actually enjoyed. They both complained, like true millenials, about the scarcity of affordable housing, their inability to retire at the same age as Boomers, the high cost of going to school after high school, and then tried to outdo the other in industries their generation was “killing.”. Bucky said Steve won with napkins and Steve said Bucky won with wine corks.

Finally Bucky was able to put his laptop away as his work hours had ended. He admitted to Steve that it wasn’t the _most_ productive day he had ever had but it was by no means the _least_ productive day. He told the story of when he and Bobbi and Bobbi’s ex had stayed up an entire weekend drinking alcoholic Arnold Palmers, for which, instead of doing the smart thing and investing in lemonade vodka and mixing it with iced tea, they bought cheap malted beverages, tea, and lemonade, and mixed them then watched all eight Harry Potter movies. He spent the entire day after alternating between dozing on the couch and dry heaving. Steve told him a few horror stories about the salon that had Bucky crying from laughter. Finally Peter got home from his job and Wade followed a few minutes after. 

**[me]** Gotta go, roomies are here and we’ve got to figure food out

 **[Steve]** OK

 **[Steve]** Hey, I don’t work Tuesdays. Maybe I could meet you for lunch?

Bucky made a weird “eep” that caught Wade and Peter’s attention. “Steve wants to meet for lunch,” he explained.

“Text him back! Tell him yes!” Wade shouted.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I was _planning_ on it, Wade.”

 **[me]** That sounds great. I can send you where I usually go or we can pick somewhere else?

 **[Steve]** Your usual place is fine. Your sandwich looked great!

Plans made, Bucky had to endure teasing the rest of the night from Wade. Peter just smiled and beamed at him and when Bucky asked him about it, he shrugged and replied, “I’m just happy with Wade and I want you to find the same happiness.” Bucky felt his cheeks heat as he grinned back.

\-----

The next day, Sharon was home because, like Steve, she didn’t work Sunday through Tuesday. He was grateful she was there so he could work through some of his pre-date jitters. He was fortunate his work clothes also doubled as casual date clothes; a pair of purple skinny jeans, a black v-neck, and he was dressed. He even flat ironed his hair so it would look like it had ridges and the colors would really pop against the platinum blond. It wasn’t _quite_ cool enough to justify a jacket, but he did wrap a light sapphire-colored scarf around his neck because it made his eyes turn the same deep blue. 

The conversation before he left had been both terrifying and hilarious, with Sharon reassuring him that, yes, Bucky was interested in him, and no, it wasn’t stupid to be this nervous before a lunch date, and yes, she thought they would both have a good time if looking at their texting history was any indication. He finally left their apartment and took the train to Bed-Stuy. Then he had to walk a couple of blocks to get to the cafe where Bucky liked to take his lunches. Through the window, he could see Bucky with a coffee cup at a table in the corner.

He took a deep breath, trying to get the butterflies in his stomach to calm the fuck down, and went inside, waving to Bucky when he was spotted. He walked over to the table fidgeting with the broken skin around his fingernails.

“Steve! Hi! You look great! I ordered a coffee but I wanted to wait for you to order my actual lunch. Not that you’re late! I’m just nervous and I was early,” Bucky said in a rush as Steve sat down.

“Oh, thank god I’m not the only nervous one,” he replied with a laugh. “I swear, Sharon was planning where to hide my body by the time I left.”

Bucky smiled at him. “My roommates are both gone during my normal work hours so I had to have a mini-meltdown via text with my best friends, Sam and Bobbi.”

“Who was with you when we met?” Steve asked.

Bucky laughed. At Steve’s questioning look he replied, “That was Sam. Bobbi is a tall, blonde woman.”

Remembering the good-looking black man, he replied, “So, she looks _nothing_ like Sam who was with you the night we met. OK, that’s good to know. Don’t want to mix them up.”

After grinning at each other far too much for grown, adult-type men, they decided to go up to the counter to order lunch. Bucky ordered his usual— he actually told the person behind the counter that he wanted “the usual”, which turned out to be a Reuben and the soup of the day. Steve decided on a turkey pastrami sandwich on rye with chips and and iced coffee.

When they both got their sandwiches, Steve gave Bucky a wry look. “I guess there’s not going to be much making out after this date.”

Bucky blushed, once again making Steve squee internally, and mumbled back, “I didn’t even think about that. I can see if they have mints?”

Steve grabbed his free hand and gave him a “is this OK” glance, holding it when he got a nod, and shook his head. “It’s fine, it’s good. I’m not looking to jump into anything too quickly. I’ve got a couple of bad relationships rattling around in my head, so if it’s all the same to you, I’m happy to not rush this.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, that—that sounds perfect.” He gestured to himself, “I know looking at me, you would think I’m rejecting people left and right, but I don’t date much.”

Steve squeezed his hand. “I think anybody who doesn’t see how adorable you are is missing out. But their loss is my gain.”

Bucky squeezed his hand back, then looked back at Steve. “Thanks. And I really like this, but I kinda need both hands to eat?”

Steve smiled and let go of Bucky’s hand. He started to eat his sandwich and understood why Bucky came to the same place for lunch. It was really good food and wasn’t extraordinarily expensive. They ate and talked through the meal, keeping conversation light. Bucky talked about hiking and camping with Sam, much to Steve’s horror.

  
  


“You willingly sleep outside? On the hard ground?” Steve gasped. 

Bucky laughed at the look of shock on Steve’s face. “It’s not that bad,” he replied. “You take a little foam pad for under your sleeping bag and you don’t even notice that you’re on the ground.”

Steve looked at him skeptically. “If you say so. My pale Irish ass likes to sleep indoors, on a memory foam mattress, with nice soft sheets, the way God intended.”

“We don’t actually go camping much anymore,” Bucky admitted. “But I do like to hike. I can’t _stand_ working out, but hiking is fun. I get to enjoy the fresh air and watch as the seasons change. It’s exercise without going to a gym. And you don’t have to buy any special equipment or anything. Well, _you_ might if you only own skinny jeans and nice shoes.”

“I’m perfectly fine in my tight pants and nice shoes,” Steve replied, a little tartly. 

“Yeah, you are.” 

Steve blushed at that. He looked up at the clock on the wall and realized, with a surge of disappointment, that it was almost time for Bucky to leave. Bucky noticed the same thing and gave him a little smile.

“This was so much fun. Do you want to do something like this again?” Steve asked hopefully.

“Yeah. I don’t know what your plans are this weekend, but I’m free. Maybe we could go out for dinner? Or drinks?”

“I work Saturdays so Friday nights are out, but we close at 5:00 on Saturdays, so we could do something that night?” Steve answered. 

“Do you want to pick the restaurant since I picked lunch?” Bucky asked as he started cleaning their dishes off the table. 

“Sure. Let me know if there’s anything you don’t really like or are allergic to.” Steve really was sad that their lunch date was over so quickly. When they were done clearing the table, they walked outside and stood close to each other. Steve took Bucky’s hand again.

“Which direction do you live?” he asked. When Bucky pointed, Steve sighed. “Damn, the station is the other way. I'll see you this weekend.”

Bucky nodded with a sweet smile on his face. Steve pulled him into a hug. “This OK?” he murmured into Bucky's collarbone. He felt, rather than saw, Bucky nod but heard him clearly say “yes”. Steve leaned back and stared at the lips he had had so much fun thinking about the day before. 

“What about this?” and he stood up on his toes a little, looking at Bucky’s mouth with his eyebrows raised in question.

Bucky smiled again and leaned down as Steve gave him a sweet, chaste kiss that only _somewhat_ tasted of lunch meat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inside the author's mind: "They don’t kiss.- Maybe they do. Steve just jerked off to thoughts about Bucky, I feel like he would at least do a no tongue "
> 
> That's it y'all. That's the thought process in my head. Not a ton there ;-)
> 
> We are [Alby_mangroves](https://artgroves.tumblr.com) and [Pineau_noir](https://pineau-noir.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


	3. It was an epiphany I had today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Now_ we get Chinese food and going to Steve's to "sober up".

The rest of the week flew by. Steve’s coworkers were only _slightly_ annoying. He got a few pointed comments from Tony that irked him and some good-natured teasing from America and Kate. Steve hated when people pried. And he hated when they gave unsolicited advice about _his_ personal life. And Tony, being older than everybody else in the salon, and having had the most successful relationship of them all, felt he was entitled, even required, to give Steve pointers.

All the “advice” from Tony _probably_ came from a good place, but it made Steve feel spiky and brittle inside. He knew he could come off as cold and uncaring at first but, once he dropped his barriers, he was warm. Well, he wasn’t cold. He was, maybe, lukewarm. And somehow Bucky had torn through his barriers the night they met.

But the thing that set Steve off the most, made him pick at his cuticles until they almost bled, were the reassurances that Bucky wouldn’t be like Brock. Intellectually Steve knew that Brock was so far in his past as to not merit sad feelings. He had moved on, had gone to therapy, had moved out of his old apartment and in with Sharon, changed his phone number, and gotten rid of everything acquired during their relationship. But every time someone brought up his name, or even mentioned him in a general manner, Steve would almost flinch. 

He was determined not to let his memories of his failed relationship color this new thing with Bucky. Despite this determination, he was still a bundle of nerves by Friday. He was sharp with Tony, monosyllabic with America, and borderline rude with one of his favorite clients, Wanda.

He finished with Wanda and fled to the color room to hide. He was gasping, desperate to catch his breath, to not have this devolve into a panic attack and mar his happy anticipation about his date. 

“Steve?” Kate asked quietly, joining him in the small room. “Wanda wanted me to check on you. She said you weren’t doing so well. Can I help?”

Steve let out a laugh that was half sob. “She’s so sweet. I have no idea why she sticks with me. I’m such a mess.”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just excited and fucking petrified about my date. And if I’m this much of a mess _today_ , how the hell am I going to survive tomorrow and not freak out on Bucky? This is why I don’t date!” His voice was almost at a shriek.

“Oh, Steve. You’re such a good dude. And I’m so sorry you’re freaking out. I wish I could take all the panic-y things in your brain away so you could just be excited about tomorrow. You’ve got to know we all love you here. Even Tony, even if he can be a pompous ass sometimes.”

Steve huffed out a half laugh. “Yeah, Tony’s a little overbearing, but I know he means well. You didn’t know me when I dated—” he took a deep breath, “—when I dated Brock. Tony, Sharon, and Natasha got to deal with the fall out on that. He was. He was a real dick. He left me with a lot of insecurities and even more baggage. I’m so freaked out about not thinking about _Brock_ when I’m excited about my date with Bucky that all I’m doing is thinking about him. And that’s not fair to Bucky and it’s not healthy for me.”

Kate held up her arms. “Bring it in, Steve. I need to give you a hug. You look like a kicked dog and I just can’t deal with that.”

Steve, blinking unshed tears, smiled and walked into the hug. “You’re a good friend, Kate.”

She let out a laugh. “I know. Thanks for telling me a little bit about what you’re going through. Dating dudes is the worst! You should find a hot chick to go out with.”

Steve did laugh at that. “Not how it works, Katie-Kate.”

She glowered at him. “My name is _not_ Katie. But I got you to laugh. Come on it’s only been a few minutes, I bet Wanda is still here. You can apologize for being a douche.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

They walked to the front and he had a little chat with Wanda. She had been one of his first clients, following him from the salon in Midtown, so she experienced the whole Brock ordeal. Wanda was one of the few clients whom Steve thought of as a friend first and a client second. She brushed off his concern at being rude with a “Don’t worry, everyone is entitled to a bad day,” and a smile. 

Relieved that he hadn’t run another person he cared about off, Steve focused on being pleasant and happy with the rest of his clients.

Kate must have spread the word to several key people because on Saturday no one brought up his date, Bucky, or Brock. He was all at once annoyed and relieved. He knew it was the right thing to do, but was loath to have his personal business involved in the gossip mill at work. However, by mid-day, he was thankful Kate had spread the word that he was anxious because there were no more well-meaning questions about his date. He was able to relax and focus on doing what he loved.

When his final client of the day walked out the door, Natasha came up to him and said “Go take a shower Rogers, you stink,” and practically pushed him out the door. Sharon was right after him, because apparently the entire salon knew he was a ball of nerves. 

Sharon, as always, knew exactly what to say. “Steve, it’s not even like it’s your first date. If you look at it the right way, it’s your second and a half date. He seems to be as into you as you are in to him. Don’t let other people”—she barked out a cough—“Tony— Don't let other people freak you out. You like him, he likes you. And you’re going somewhere that has alcohol, right? Have a glass of wine. Don’t get sloppy drunk, but sip on a glass while you eat to stay calm.”

Steve left his apartment and walked to the little hole-in-the-wall Chinese place he loved so much. Their food was cheap and their drinks were strong. This time _he_ was the early one. Only a few minutes had passed, with Steve texting Sharon about being early and her reply of “You've got this” and like seven thumbs up emoji, when Bucky arrived. He looked as cuddly as always, this time with his hair up in a stubby ponytail. Little pieces of hair had fallen out around his face and were tucked behind his ears. Steve wanted to kiss him until they were both breathless.

“Hi,” Bucky half whispered.

“Hi yourself.”

Steve started to laugh. At Bucky's questioning look he said, “I’ve been so worried about not being weird all week. But I'm pretty sure you’re just as awkward as I am.”

Bucky laughed back at him. “Yeah.” He nodded. “I'd say that's pretty accurate.”

Steve felt all his worry, all his anxiety, start to bleed away. “Come on in, this place is my favorite. And only part of that’s because I can walk here.”

They went in, got a table, and put in an order for some mixed drinks. Steve ordered a Pink Lady.

“I've never even _heard_ of a Pink Lady, unless we're talking about _Grease_ ,” Bucky remarked as the waitress left.

Steve felt himself start to tense. He didn't want to think about Brock when he was on a date with Bucky, and he knew it was unfair to _test_ Bucky with his drink order, but Steve was doing exactly that. Steve didn't have a particular love for sweet, fruity drinks with funny names, but he enjoyed them on occasion. While he was dating Brock, his drink orders could start fights. Literally fucking another man was fine, but ordering what he had deemed girly drinks was “so gay”. In comparison, Bucky's nonchalance was refreshing.

He shook his head a little and smiled. “Yeah, for a Chinese place, they have a lot of weird, old drinks. I try and get something different every time I come in. This one sounded fun.”

“What’s your favorite?” Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged. “Honestly? The Bay Breeze. It's not that adventurous, it's just a cranberry vodka with pineapple juice added.”

“OK, then, what’s the strangest drink you've ordered?” Bucky asked with a smile.

Steve thought for a minute. “It didn't _taste_ that weird but definitely the Pink Squirrel.”

Bucky sputtered out a laugh. “Who...why...that's a _terrible_ name for a cocktail!”

Steve breathed out tension he didn't realize he was carrying. Logically he knew that Bucky liked him, knew Bucky wouldn't judge him on what society said was an acceptable gender norm. Yet Steve still had the ghost of Brock in his head, telling him it was an embarrassment to be out with Steve when he did something that was deemed unmasculine. But Bucky was just smiling at him. Steve reached his hand out and Bucky took it.

“The most pretentious drink I've ordered was the French 75,” Steve continued as if his internal struggle hadn't happened. “It had gin, champagne, lemon juice, and just the idea of sugar in it. I'm not solely into sweet cocktails but damn, that one was _tart_.

\-----

Several helpings of sodium and alcohol later, Steve realized the restaurant was about to close. He felt, well, he was a little tipsy. He felt like he didn’t weigh anything but also like his feet were anchored to the ground and he kept giggling. Blinking felt like it took seven minutes to accomplish and though he was seated, he was swaying in a little circle. He upped his assessment from tipsy to a little drunk. Bucky seemed to be faring no better.

“So then...so then I said…” Bucky started and then dissolved into laughter. 

“Dude, we've had too much to drink! Can you get home like this or do you need to crash on my couch?” Steve asked with a small—really a reasonable—amount of panic, considering the circumstances.

“I'll be fine. This won't be my first time riding the train whilst drunk, Steven,” Bucky said, over enunciating his words. “But thanks for looking out for me.”

Steve stared at him. The flash of panic earlier causing his thoughts to clear. “Text your roommates. Tell them they need to come get you or you're crashing on my couch,” he said sternly.

Bucky shivered a little. “Is that,” he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, “is that an order?”

Oh. _Oh_. Steve didn’t know it was like that. He was _very_ much interested in having that conversation later. When they both were sober. But for the moment, they both needed to go somewhere to sleep off the alcohol they had imbibed.

“I would feel so much better if I knew you were somewhere safe to sober up. I'm only a couple of blocks away, we can drink water and watch a movie for a little bit?” 

Bucky looked at him with big eyes. “OK. Yeah, that sounds fine. Peter ‘n Wade are probably having sex anyway.”

That startled a laugh out of Steve. “OK, come on, let's pay and stumble to my place. We can find something animated to watch, I'm sure.”

The walk to Steve's place was _fun_. They held hands and giggled the entire way. Going up the stairs proved to be a little more difficult due to their inebriated state but after a few missteps, they were in Steve's living room.

“Wow...your place is nice,” breathed Bucky.

Steve surveyed the living room. He moved in with not a lot of furniture so Sharon’s taste was predominant. But they both agreed on neutral colors for the big furniture with bright colors as accent pieces. Their couch was beige, but the area rug under it was a rich garnet, which picked out some red tones in the exposed brick wall behind the couch. And their accent chair was blue velvet with a geometric gold frame, which looked nice against the honey finish of their hardwood floors. Black and white pictures, in black frames, of their friends and families hung on the white walls. 

“Thanks. Honestly, most of it is Sharon's. I have no idea if she has a secret sugar daddy, is deeply in debt, or if she just makes a lot more than me, but she likes expensive things. And I get to enjoy them! It's pretty great.”

Bucky stared at Steve. “You're pretty great,” he mumbled.

“ _You're_ pretty,” Steve countered.

Bucky blushed. Steve had no idea what he had done in a previous life to deserve this blushing boy but he wasn't going to question it. Much. He motioned towards the kitchen. 

“Let me get some water and I'll be right back to put something on the TV.” Bucky nodded.

Steve returned with their water and set it on the glass coffee table that had an enclosed area for a terrarium but they just put a bunch of books in it. Bucky was sprawled on the couch, feet on the floor but upper body spread out over half of the cushions. He sat down next to Bucky, so close he could feel the heat from his body. He motioned to the water, “Here, that's yours,” he got out before he turned and tackled Bucky. Their mouths met and it was everything Steve had hoped it would be, sweet and sexy, uncoordinated and fun.

“Is this—this too fast?” he gasped out between kisses.

“No, ‘s fine,” Bucky replied, just as breathless.

The position was weird—Steve was turned at an odd angle, so he shuffled over and straddled Bucky's lap. That made Bucky groan. They continued kissing, gasping and licking into each other's mouths until Steve couldn't stay still and started moving his hips on top of Bucky.

“Oh, God, I've thought about this so much,” Bucky said as Steve moved on to nibble at his ear. Steve groaned at his words and felt Bucky shiver in response. Their mouths met again, wet and hot and eager. He felt like a teenager again, making out on the couch. He rolled his hips and heard Bucky groan.

“Shhhh,” Steve giggled. “I'm pretty sure Sharon is here. I'll never live it down if we wake her up because we got too loud.” Bucky just bit Steve where his neck met his shoulder, causing _Steve_ to groan. Steve felt Bucky laugh, shoulders shaking a little and a deep vibration in his chest.

“Shhhh, Steve! Don't wake your roommate up,” he whispered.

“Oh, fuck off,” Steve said as he started kissing Bucky again. Steve felt a heat low in his belly, a tingle at his center. After what felt hours but was probably only a few minutes, they were both hard, rutting against each other, panting into each other's mouths. Steve took Bucky's hair out of the pony tail holder and ran his fingers through his hair. He scratched and massaged Bucky's scalp, thankful he could use this particular work skill in other settings.

When he had worked his way to the back of Bucky's head, he started gently scratching behind Bucky's ears and the sides of his neck. Bucky started moving his hips in earnest and making small grunts.

“Steve, _Steve_ you're killing me. If you keep doing this, I'm going to come in my pants.”

Steve stilled his movements and sighed. “Yeah, probably not the best idea to do anything more after we've both been drinking.”

Bucky’s face fell and looked like Steve had just killed his favorite pet. “Look, my brain knows you're right, but fuck—” he started.

“Sorry! I don't mean to kill the mood!” 

“No! No, Steve! I didn't mean that at all! I really appreciate you caring enough to stop. Ugh, I just either need to jerk off or take a cold shower. But! Also! I'm _fine_ ,” his voice rose in pitch, “to watch a movie with you as long as there's not so much body contact.”

Steve nodded and took in Bucky's disheveled hair, lips red and slick from kissing, a slight glazed look in his eyes, and the uncomfortable bulge in his jeans. He took a deep breath. 

“Yeah, a movie. Cold water and a movie, that was the plan. We can do this. We're not teenagers any more. We can look past our lust and hard-ons.” Bucky groaned at that. “We can do the right thing. But...maybe, do you want to crash with me? No funny business, just cuddling? It's been a while since I've just _slept_ with somebody.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, that sounds, that sounds perfect actually.”

“I can take my laptop into my room and we can watch a movie in bed?”

“Lead the way.”

\-----

Bucky woke up warm and in a soft bed. Steve’s bed, his brain reminded him. As soon as he realized that, he could feel Steve’s thin arm thrown around his middle and their feet tangled together. Bucky was the little spoon, which Bucky thought was the best spoon. He felt Steve start to wake, his feet started to move, his arm tightened against Bucky’s stomach, and he finally huffed out a breath against Bucky’s neck.

“Morning,” Steve croaked.

“So...we got pretty drunk last night,” Bucky replied. “Sorry if I got a little too forward.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “No, everything was great. Thanks for staying, this is a really nice way to wake up.”

Bucky rolled over and kissed the top of Steve’s head. Steve’s hair didn’t have its usual, pristine shape but instead had weird spikes of platinum blond, pinks, and purples. Bucky thought his messy hair suited him. In the beginning, before they had texted and learned more about each other, Bucky thought the immaculate, hyper chic hair fit Steve’s personality. But after a week of texting, a lunch date, and a dinner date that ended up with a tipsy makeout session, Bucky realized that this softer, slightly messy version of Steve was closer to Steve’s true self. He knew Steve had mentioned a bad relationship a couple of times and assumed that’s why he would outfit himself in black clothing and a very fashion forward hairstyle. He thought it was his way of shielding himself against the world; by presenting a very rigid exterior Steve had made himself safer, less subject to being hurt. That thought made Bucky a little sad, but he shook it off because he was currently in bed with Steve who was beautiful and funny and charming.

He leaned down for a quick kiss, only slightly minding the post Chinese food morning breath. “You look really cute in the morning,” he said into Steve’s hair.

“I could say the same about you too,” Steve replied.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

“What,” Steve asked, annoyance clear in his voice.

“I have coffee,” came the voice from outside the door.

“Sharon, my one true love, please come in, we’re dressed, and for the love of everything that’s holy, _please_ tell me you have coffee for me in your hand right now.”

Bucky heard Sharon laugh and then she opened the door. Like the night he met Steve, Bucky couldn’t believe how beautiful Steve and his co-workers were. Sharon was dressed casually in workout clothes and she looked so wholesome and pure with her blonde hair in a high ponytail and sparkling eyes.

She saw Bucky and Steve snuggling and began to glare.”Steve,” she began, her voice sharp, “you both _hit_ and _hit on_ this guy _last weekend_ and he gets the full cuddling treatment, but I, your roommate, your better half, your best friend of almost a _decade_ get the bare minimum of physical affection.”

Bucky went tense in Steve’s arms.

“Sharon,” Steve scolded, “Bucky doesn’t know you’re mostly joking.”

“Partially joking,” she corrected.

They looked at each other. “We have an agreement,” they both said and then laughed.

Sharon held up a steaming mug of coffee. “Here’s your coffee,” she said as Steve made grabby hands. 

Bucky smiled at Steve while they got out of bed. Steve took his coffee from Sharon and headed back to the kitchen. Sharon lingered, a more serious look on her face than when she had been joking with Steve.

“He _does_ have some problems with being physically affectionate,” she said softly. “I don’t know how much he’s told you about his ex, and it’s really not my place, but don’t take it the wrong way if he doesn’t want to hug you or cuddle you all the time. He won’t admit it, but he’s self-conscious about being so small. I believe his ex’s exacts words were ‘hugging Steve is like hugging a bag of bones.’” 

Bucky’s body went stiff with shock. The smile that had taken over his face disappeared. He couldn't imagine anyone saying such cruel words about _anyone_ but especially someone you cared about. His heart ached for Steve and he wanted to wrap him up in a hug but he knew Steve didn't want pity.

“I’m not telling you this to make you feel sorry for him—that’s the last thing he needs. But just—just give him some time. He’s a great guy and he lights up when he talks about you. Don’t take it personally if he sometimes shies away from you. To use a terrible cliche, it’s not you, it’s him.”

Bucky nodded, still a little thrown by the conversation. He knew he needed to quickly move on, but he gave himself a few moments to really mourn for the past Steve who must have been in so much pain. “OK. Thanks for telling me. He had mentioned a bad relationship in his past. I’m glad he’s got you.”

Sharon smiled, bright like the sun. “You’re a good one, Bucky. Take care of my roommate and we’ll get along famously.”

\-----

Steve glared at Sharon when she and Bucky walked into the kitchen several minutes after Steve. “I know you were talking about me,” he muttered as Bucky went to get coffee on the other side of the kitchen.

“Relax, Steve. He’s a good guy. I just had to make sure.”

“I really like him, Sharon. Help me not fuck this up?” Steve asked in a small voice.

“Of course.”

Argument averted, they settled down for breakfast. Over their eggs and toast, Steve’s toast liberally covered in jelly, Sharon asked Bucky about himself and Steve watched with affection. He didn't _need_ Sharon’s approval but she was right, she was his best friend, his better half and her opinion did matter. She and Peggy were his dearest friends and had been through all of his ups and downs through the years. While they were cleaning up dishes and Bucky had gone to freshen up in the bathroom, Steve walked over to Sharon and embraced her.

“I'm sorry I'm so fucked up.”

She smiled, gently. “Oh, honey, we're _all_ fucked up. Some of us are just better at hiding it. Come on, I think Bucky's almost done, let's go have a lazy day. Ask him if he wants to join us. I want to get to know him better.”

Bucky _did_ want to stay and they all took their coffee to the living room. Bucky and Steve settled on the couch while Sharon made herself comfortable in the blue velvet accent chair. She shot Bucky and Steve a look when they started to cuddle on the couch; Steve's arm around Bucky's shoulders, Bucky's head nestled against Steve's collarbone. 

“Hands above the waist, no swapping fluids,” she remarked sternly. “Don't get my couch gross.”

At Steve's glare and Bucky's look of bewilderment, she laughed. “Neither of you are as quiet as you think when you're drunk and horny.”

Steve started to laugh while Bucky stammered out an apology. Sharon waved her hand. “Whatever, just don't do it again.”

Steve briefly tightened his arm around Bucky, who sighed. “Don't worry, Sharon's only _slightly_ evil.”

She laughed. “Steve, you know that's not true. I'm the perfect balance between good and evil. I'm true neutral.”

They spent the rest of the day talking about themselves and laughing. Steve learned that Bucky had a twin sister named Becca, who now lived in Connecticut with her husband and 18 month old daughter. Bucky told them where the nickname “Bucky” had come from: “My dad got a little _too_ tipsy when me and Becca were born and decided to name me after the worst US President ever—well, worst until now. But I couldn't say ‘Buchanan’ when I was a kid so I was ‘James Bucky’ and the name stuck. Plus this was the late ’80s and there were like five Jameses and Jimmys in my class so it was either ‘Bucky' or ‘second James B.’”

Steve told Bucky about his Ma and how she had passed when Steve was in college. His dad was never in the picture, so he had been on his own for a while. He assured Bucky that while he might not have flesh and blood family, his friends and colleagues were his chosen family.

He told Bucky about how he and Sharon and Peggy had all met: “I was an assistant, an apprentice really, at a salon in Midtown. So I was learning all the finer aspects of cuts and color techniques. Sharon was in cosmetology school and saw the flier the salon had put out asking for models for our class. They both walked in and they were so beautiful.”

“Steve, sthhhap, you're too much. But, yeah, Pegs and I are pretty amazing.”

Steve waited for a moment. “Can I continue?”

“Of course.”

“So, Peggy let me cut her hair and style it into Victory Rolls and I fell in love. Sharon finished up school and worked with me at the salon and the three of us have been close ever since.”

Sharon and Steve talked about the salon and what life was like. Steve was, as Bobbi had guessed, big into fashion color and funky cuts. Steve said Sharon specialized in “revealing tops and men’s cuts.”. Bucky looked at Sharon in surprise. She shrugged and replied with, “I work hard to look like this _for me_ and I get great tips. It’s not my fault men are gross.”

Steve talked about the owner of the salon: Natasha, the woman with the red hair Bucky had seen in the bar the night he and Steve met. She was originally from Russia but immigrated when she was a child. She had started the Red Room seven years ago and built it from the ground up. She had a hand in all aspects of the business, from the decor to deciding what retail lines they carried to cultivating a talented and diverse staff.

Steve started to laugh. “One of Sharon’s clients is desperately in love with Nat.”

Sharon laughed too. “Oh, Clint,” she said between chuckles. “He’s so sweet and clueless and just terrible at adulting. He grew up _in the circus_ , so, you know, good for him for what he can do.”

Steve had a soft spot for Clint. He was a little clueless, sure, but he was extremely intelligent and funny. They had actually become friends outside of the salon, and had gone on a tour of food trucks last summer. He wasn’t sure Clint had a chance with Natasha, but she was not known for doing what people expected.

Steve talked about Kate and America, who had been hired within weeks of each other and had fallen completely in love. Bucky told them a little about his job, which Steve still didn’t quite understand.

They started to talk about their hobbies,realized they were both super into comic books, and talked about their favorite story arcs, artists, and characters. They talked so long and in such depth that Sharon finally got tired of listening and went to go work out.

Steve gave Bucky a little half hug. “This has been really fun. I’m really glad you stayed last night.”

“Me too,” Bucky murmured.

“I—I don’t want to… _fuck_ , this is weird and awkward. But OK, so I know Sharon gave you a little heads up. So, yeah, I was in a really bad relationship with this guy and I have some leftover hangups. I don’t want to get too far into whatever this thing with us is and not have you know that if I’m weird, it’s probably not anything you did. 

“This guy was just an all-around asshole and made me feel ashamed about my body and my career. Obviously I’ve done the whole therapy thing and things are a lot better, but after it ended, I took a two month leave of absence. I lost a lot of clients and I’m just now to the point where I don’t have to work every day to pay my bills. 

“But I really like you. So I guess, I’m asking if you will give me some time to figure out what we’re becoming because I like you, I really do. But I’m just not the easiest guy to date. God, I’m probably scaring you off. Fuck, just, I know we’re taking things slow. Can we keep taking things slow for a while?

“I know this is _so_ early for something this serious but I don’t want make you feel like you’re doing something wrong. And I don’t want you to feel like I’m leading you on or not being honest or whatever. I have no idea what to say to make this better or make me not feel like an asshole. _Fuck_ , I’m sorry.”

Bucky turned to embrace Steve. He felt warm in Bucky’s arms. Bucky, once again, felt a surge of sadness for Steve and a bright flash of anger at someone who would make Steve doubt himself so much. He snuggled into Steve and kissed the top of his head.

“I don’t mind, and I don’t think there’s anything you need to say to make things better. We all have shit in our past and insecurities about ourselves. I really appreciate you being so up-front with me and I can understand how you would be scared to jump into a relationship. I’m great with going at whatever speed we need, because I haven’t dated a lot, so I have my own hang-ups. I may not have an emotionally abusive ex, but I certainly have body image insecurities. And don’t apologize. Your feelings are valid.”

Steve relaxed. “You’re a good hugger,” he mumbled into Bucky’s chest.

“You’re just saying that because I’m built like a pillow,” Bucky responded with a soft smile.

You’re not a pillow, you’re just comfy. I like comfy.”

"I'm not trying to invalidate your feelings but when I saw you last weekend, I thought you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I know that’s not going to erase years of being self-conscious, but if you start to feel bad about yourself, I can text and and tell you how hot you are.”

Steve smiled and felt tears gather in his eyes. He sniffed. “This is getting far too sappy,” he said, not unkindly. “We’re supposed to be hung over and you get to do the walk of shame.”

Bucky leaned down to gently kiss Steve. “I like this better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are [Alby_mangroves](https://artgroves.tumblr.com) and [Pineau_noir](https://pineau-noir.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


	4. And I just wonder why it took me so very, very long to see it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor makes a (brief) appearance, Steve meets Bucky's friends, and they embarrass him (but just a little).

After surprising Bucky for lunch on Tuesday, Steve settled into his regular work week again. Nothing particularly exciting happened Wednesday. But on Thursday his first client one of Steve’s regulars, on whom he had a not-so-secret crushes, had an appointment first thing in the morning. Thor (what had his parents been thinking?) usually kept his blond hair long but he was going through a breakup and wanted something different.

“Steven, I would appreciate something new. A shorter cut. Maybe one with designs cut into the sides of my hair. I have brought a picture,” Thor announced when they started talking about what he wanted from the appointment. In addition to his unusual name, Thor had a very particular speech pattern. Steve thought it was endearing. But then again, Steve thought that about Thor in general.

“That looks like something I could definitely do. I want to make sure this is really something you’re going to want to commit to. It’s going to be a huge change from your shoulder-length hair. And the design looks cool, but it will require appointments every other week. We can play with something else, like an undercut so you can keep what’s on top if you want, as kind of a compromise.”

“No, Steven. I appreciate your candor, but I wish to have a different look. I am no longer the same person after Jane left and I want a change. I do not mind multiple cuts a month--it will give me a reason to leave my apartment.”

Oh yeah, and Thor was _loaded_. So when he said he needed a reason to leave his apartment, it was because he didn’t technically have a job. The money didn’t affect Steve’s opinion of him, but he appreciated the large tips Thor left, especially when Steve was rebuilding his clientele after his leave.

“If this is what you really want, I would be honored to help. Can I take a before picture for my Instagram?” Steve asked, finally starting to get excited about the major change he was going to facilitate.

“Of course,” Thor boomed and Steve snapped a couple of shots of him in silly poses.

Steve looked at his schedule and was thankful he didn’t have another client right after Thor. “Great, let me start cutting some of the length off and then I’ll send you to the sink with Kate. I’m going to go talk to the desk so I can make sure we take our time on this cut. “

He had America block off an hour for Thor’s appointment and asked Kate if she wanted to sit in on the cut, as the salon wasn’t too busy and he loved to teach the assistants new techniques when he could. A full hour later, Thor was completely transformed. He had been happy to let Kate shave a zig-zag into one side of his hair and kept running his fingers through the soft hair on the top of his head and the fuzz on the sides. When it was time to take the “after” pictures, Kate and America begged Steve to be in a few of the pictures.

“Steve!” America whispered. “Thor’s really hot. _Please_ let us in a picture. And then send me the picture right away.”

Steve looked at her . “I thought...you and Kate, I thought you weren’t into guys?”

 _“Steve,”_ Kate interjected, “just because we’re lesbians, doesn’t mean we don’t love Thor.”

Steve shook his head. “Yeah, OK, I understand that.”

Twenty minutes of pictures later, Thor _finally_ had to leave. Steve had a partial balayage next, so he spent the next half hour hand-painting dye into a woman’s hair. This was her first appointment with Steve and she seemed thrilled to meet him. Steve was excited to work with her because she had seen his Instagram feed and requested an appointment. He finished the strands and asked her if she wanted anything to drink, then let her know she needed to process for about half an hour but he was going to keep checking in on her.

He felt an overwhelming urge to text Bucky, so he gave into the instinct and went to hide in the color room. Hunched on his elbows, he started typing.

 **[me]** I’m working with a client who found me on ig!

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** That’s GREAT!!! But dude, you’re so talented!

 **[me]** How do you know that? When have you seen my work?

 **[me]** James Buchanan have you been internet stalking me? :laughing emoji:

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** Maybe? Bobbi was asking about where you worked and found your page

Steve put his phone down and covered his face with both hands so no one could walk in and see the huge smile on his face and hear his soft laughter. He heard his phone buzz again.

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** Sorry if that was creepy!

 **[me]** No! It’s not creepy! I had to take a minute to be goofy and maybe giggle to myself

 **[me]** Allegedly

He heard someone crash into the wall behind him. “Hey, Steve!” Clint said with a large smile. He absently rubbed the shoulder that had collided with the wall.

“Hey, man,” Steve said, fondly. “You got a cut with Sharon today?”

“Naw, just dropped by to see if anybody wanted lunch?”

“I don’t really have another break in my schedule after this one so I can’t really eat much,” Steve replied.

“I could grab you a snack? I’m going to a taco truck. Maybe just a couple of tacos you can munch on?”

“Sure, thanks. That sounds great!”

Clint ambled off to get food for everybody and Natasha snuck up on Steve when he was mixing together a toner for his balayage client’s hair. Her hair was _almost_ perfect. He just needed to take some of the warmth out.

“You’re in a chipper mood today, Steve,” she drawled.

“It’s a pretty fun day, Natasha. Thor got a new look, I got a new client, and Clint’s bringing tacos. Not too bad for a Thursday.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Oh, just a fun Thursday? Nothing to do with the fact that you had an overnight guest Saturday night and have been giddy ever since?”

Steve blushed. “Sharon’s got a big mouth,” he grumbled.

“The blush is cute, Steve. I’m glad you’re having a good day,” she said as she finished mixing her color. “Have a fun rest of the day.”

Steve worked the next few hours, chatting with clients and generally enjoying his job. He was finishing up with his last client around 6:00 when he got a message from Bucky.

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** Hey, I know it’s last minute but Wade is cooking and Bobbi and Sam are coming over and you could come for dinner too? If you want?

 **[me]** That sounds great! I’m almost done for the day, just need to clean up my station

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** Great! I’ll send you the address. We’re on the third floor. If you want, you can text me and I’ll meet you outside

Steve looked at the address Bucky sent and let him know that he should arrive in Bed-Stuy in about an hour. He told Sharon he wasn’t heading home for dinner and got some sass from Tony and Kate. He just ignored them, smiled, and left.

\-----

True to his estimate, Steve got to Bucky’s a little after seven. Bucky was sitting on the steps of their walk-up nervously bouncing his leg. He was _so_ glad Steve didn’t think they had to be “cool” and avoid each other for a predetermined time. Bucky still enjoyed his time alone— he was an introvert, after all—but he really enjoyed texting Steve throughout the day and having little dates during the week. They weren’t serious yet—it had only been a week and a half—but Bucky thought they might be able to turn what they had into something long-term if things kept progressing. He was very much smitten.

Steve walked up, adorable in his tight pants, over-sized v-neck sweater, and windswept hair. He stopped in front of Bucky, wrapped his arms around him, and asked, “We’re to the hugging when we see each other point, right? Because otherwise this would be awkward.”

 

 

Bucky laughed into his hair. “Yeah, yeah, this is nice. I like this greeting.” They finished their hug and walked upstairs to the apartment. Bucky hoped Steve would get along with everybody; he hoped Wade wouldn’t do anything _too_ obnoxious, hoped Sam wouldn’t tell the story of that _one_ time they went camping, hoped Bobbi wouldn’t give Steve the third degree. Basically, he hoped all of his friends, except Peter who was often in his own world, would behave. However, when they opened the door, he knew that wasn’t going to be possible.

A hand-drawn banner, in crayon no less, proclaimed “Welcome Steve” with a cartoon version of Bucky and Steve, and... was that a unicorn? Bucky sighed. Wade was notoriously extra when it came to meeting new people. Bobbi was smirking in the corner with Sam and Peter was on his phone. Bucky felt a quick stab of embarrassment as he surveyed their furniture and decor. He remembered how chic Steve’s apartment was and looked at the couch that was a hand-me-down from Peter’s aunt, their tie-dye bean bag chair that Peter was curled up in, and all of their movie posters tacked up on the walls. He knew they lived like college kids but it had never really bothered him until he realized how adult-like other people his age were.

Steve beamed at the sign. “This is great! That looks _just_ like Bucky and me! And the unicorn is pretty awesome! Whose kid drew this?”

Bucky groaned. “Not a kid. Wade did it. My adult male roommate. Who is older than me.”

Steve snickered. “Well, it’s still pretty great. You didn’t have to do all this for me, though.”

Peter finally looked up. “Yeah, Wade was drawing the unicorn and turned it into the sign. If he hadn’t made it for you, he would have made it for someone else. He’s kinda weird, but he’s my kinda weird.”

“He’s also a great cook,” added Sam, who was (unsuccessfully) trying not to laugh. “Peter and Wade are an odd match, but they really make it work.”

Bucky sighed. His friends were great and not at all embarrassing. “You’ll get to meet him in a few minutes. Do you want anything to drink while we wait?”

Steve shook his head.

Wade picked that moment to come out of the kitchen, clad in a French maid’s uniform. He skipped over to Peter, gave him a big kiss, complete with a “mwah” sound, and turned to Steve.

“Hi, I’m Wade, great to meet you, Steve. Thanks for not shrieking when you saw my scars.”

Bucky saw Steve startle. He _had_ to have noticed Wade’s scars; they were very visible. They were burn scars from Wade’s previous life. The scars were a light pink and didn't look as bad when Wade was dressed, but Bucky knew they were extensive. They had faded with the passage of time, but Wade was still very self-conscious about them, Bucky had learned.

Steve glanced at Bucky before turning to Wade. “Do people— has that actually happened to you? Dude, that’s terrible. But I will say, you look great in your dress.”

Bucky let out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding. Whether or not Steve knew it, Wade would be putting Steve on his “bros forever” list because of that compliment.

Wade beamed, twirled around, and put on a truly terrible, faux southern accent. “Bucky, Ahhh’m so glad you’rah gentleman callah has mannahs. Steve, you’rah peach and are welcome at our group dinnah anytime. Ahhh’ve got to go back to cooking but dinnah will be ready in a few.”

Peter looked up again. “It smells great, babe. And you look amazing as per usual.”

“Thanks hon,” said Wade as he blew Peter an exaggerated kiss and walked back to the kitchen.

Sam smiled at Steve. “Great to officially meet you, man. Bucky is a good dude and he seems pretty excited about you.”

Bucky felt his cheeks heat. Steve glanced at Bucky and grinned. Bucky felt his heart flutter a little.

“I'm pretty excited about him too,” Steve said as he took Bucky's hand and led them to the couch to sit. “Your friends are funny,” he murmured. “And I’m digging the posters, _Dune_ is such a classic.”

“My friends are jerks,” Bucky replied with laughter in his voice. “I’m glad you like the posters. Our place is a lot different than yours— ” he started.

“Yeah, but that’s just because of Sharon. When I lived alone, my place pretty much looked like your place. Down to the couch that is clearly on its third owner but no less comfortable.”

Bucky felt his cheeks flush again. Sam must have seen his blush because he started in on a long and rambling story about the time he and Bucky were in college and got lost and ended up accidentally touring a facility for firefighters. Steve was laughing by the time Sam got to the end.

“Then, guy says, ‘I think you fellas may be lost’.”

Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve laughed. That story was not nearly as funny as Sam thought it was. To Bucky’s relief, Steve offered up a couple of semi-embarrassing stories from his life. He laughed at some of the more outlandish people Steve had worked with and cringed at the stories of the strange requests he had had to accommodate from his clients.

Finally dinner was ready. Wade made them all chicken fajitas and Bucky felt lucky to have such considerate roommates. Sex noises aside, they really spoiled him, with food anyway.

The conversation got around to how they all met: Peter and Wade being Craigslist _not_ -axe-murderer finds and Bucky and Sam going back to undergrad where they initially hated each other and then became fast friends.

“So how did you and Bobbi meet?” Steve asked.

Bucky groaned. “Steve, you do _not_ want to hear this story.”

Steve smirked. “That bad?”

Bobbi piped in, “Yeah, I love Bucky, but this was not his finest moment. I can give you the cliffs notes if you want.” She looked at Bucky, who shook his head, and she stopped talking.

“If anybody is going to embarrass me, it’s going to be me.”

Steve looked a little worried. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s that bad.”

“No, it’s just so it was a while ago, and we were drunk and at a club and I was young. And horribly inexperienced with women,” continued Bucky, feeling more and more resigned to telling making a slight fool of himself. But maybe Steve was really into awkward first meetings.

“We went back to hers and made out and had sex. We woke up the next day with a slight difference of opinion on our liaison. I thought things went fairly well.”

Bucky started reciting in a ridiculously bad British accent. “‘And we had a conversation. The word “ejaculation” was said. And the word “premature,” as well. And I came back with “No. Ejaculation mature. Mature ejaculation. Not premature. Post-mature. Veteran ejaculation. Wise, learned man ejaculation. Mature man who does the washing-up.” But no, she vetoed it,’” Bucky rolled his eyes, sighed and looked around the room. “And such is my embarrassing and slightly traumatic meeting of Bobbi.”

“Eddie Izzard, nice, how many times did you have to watch that to memorize it?” Steve asked.

“Just like once or twice.”

Wade piped up. “Yeah, if ‘once or twice’ means on repeat for the weekend!”

Bobbi leveled him with a glare that would have felled anyone who had not had Wade’s tragic backstory. “Wade,” she said shortly, “I think we have embarrassed Bucky enough.” She glanced at Steve and Bucky. “New subject?”

Bucky nodded, relieved that the teasing part of the evening was over. He wasn’t mad at his friends, but he didn't necessarily think they would bring up his “greatest hits” so fast. He felt Steve knock their shoulders together.

“Hey, for what it's worth, I've had the same thing happen to me,” Steve whispered with a smile. “Alcohol and sex don't really go well together. Thanks for putting yourself out there. Reminds me you're as clueless with this stuff as I am.”

Bucky smiled and grabbed Steve's hand. “Yeah, they mean well. Thanks for not running?” he whispered back, a little self consciously.

“No, that would be a dick move. Dumb stories aren't going to make me run.”

“Hey, I hate to break up the whisper fest,” Sam said with a grin, “but I've got to go. Early morning waits for no man.” He gathered his things and walked to the door.

Bucky stood up and gave Sam what they called “bro hugs”: ie, a hug with lots of back slapping. Sam motioned to Steve who stood up and approached them by the door. Sam reached out his hand for a handshake, and cocked his head, eyebrows raised, asking for permission. He clearly respected Steve's boundaries. Bucky felt a surge of love for his best friend, who yes, gave him so much shit, but also was able to read body language so well and ask for consent to something as small as a handshake.

Steve shook his hand and said, “I'm glad I got to officially meet you Sam.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, last time you stole Bucky from me. It seems like it worked out well for you both. OK, really, I've got at least half an hour to get home. I can't stay lollygagging with y'all.

“Bye!” he shouted as he walked out the door.

Shortly after, Wade and Peter disappeared to their room. Bobbi stayed for a few minutes longer, clearly wanting some time with just Steve and Bucky.

“Hey, I know we can be assholes,” she started, “but Bucky means a lot to us. And I think you're starting to mean a lot to him, so thanks for putting up with us.”

Steve smiled and Bucky felt his cheeks heat.

“These idiot boys”—she gestured around the now empty room but to where, shortly before, Sam, Wade, and Peter had sat—“they're my family. And Bucky's closer to me than my actual flesh and blood. Even _Wade_ means the world to me and he's not always all there. So I'm glad you got to meet all of us and you stayed. ’Cause we're a package deal. We come with Bucky. We don't choose his partners, but it's nice when we like them. And general consensus is that we definitely like you.”

She got up from her chair. “Now, after that seriousness, I need to go home. I've got a long day in the lab tomorrow and caffeine will only get me so far.”

She kissed Bucky's cheek while they hugged and Steve even consented to a hug. “Have a good night. Practice safe sex, boys,” she said and giggled.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “She's thinks she's so funny.” Steve smirked back.

Finally alone, they snuggled on the couch and Steve rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder. “This was a lot of fun,” Steve said.

“Everybody really to seemed like you,” Bucky murmured back. “I’m glad you came over.”

“It was so much better than eating leftovers and watching Bravo on the couch. Plus, cuddles.”

“Yeah, cuddles are pretty great. We could...we could go to my room and cuddle?” Bucky suggested his nerves bleeding through in his voice.

“What kind of boy do you think I am?” Steve asked with mock outrage. “Yeah, sure, show me where you work your magic.”

They padded back to Bucky’s room and Steve laughed as Bucky scrambled to throw dirty boxers and socks into the laundry basket and shoved his half-used bottle of lube back into the drawer where it belonged.

“Ugh, that’s terrible, I’m sorry!” Bucky squeaked. “I probably should have let you wait a few minutes outside while I did this!”

“Honestly, no worries, my room looks pretty much the same. Down to the bottle of lube.”

Bucky felt his cheeks flush, but Steve was smiling gently at him.

He watched as Steve took in his decor, the MC Escher prints and the comic book covers that he had framed. Then Steve walked up to the shelf that held his Lego Architecture sets of the Guggenheim, Falling Water, and the Sydney Opera house and gave him an approving look. Finally Steve kicked his shoes off and sat on the bed. Bucky fumbled to get his own shoes off and joined him.

“Now, I was promised cuddling. Why don’t we lie down and get a little more comfortable.”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds nice,” Bucky answered.

Steve stretched his arms out and Bucky shifted to his side and lay his head on Steve’s left shoulder. He tangled his left leg with Steve’s leg and breathed in Steve’s scent.

“You smell nice.”

“I took a shower before I came over,” Steve replied.

“That's smart. Solid plan.”

Steve turned his head so that they were face to face, noses practically touching. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispered as he lifted up his head and their lips met. This was nothing like the drunken, fumbling kisses they had shared over the weekend. This was sweet and slow like honey. They traded lazy open mouthed kisses. Feeling braver than usual, Bucky deepened the kiss, and gently nipped Steve’s bottom lip. Steve groaned and opened his mouth to lick into Bucky. They stayed slow and gentle, Bucky moaning when Steve found something he liked. Steve rolled over so they were front to front, but Bucky’s leg stayed between Steve’s and their hips started to slowly grind. The kisses got hotter, more passionate, and Bucky pulled back with a gasp.

“Fuck, Steve, you’re so goddamn sexy. Never been with anyone like you.”

Steve chuckled. “I dunno, Bobbi’s pretty hot. I mean, I’m not even into ladies and I can appreciate how sexy she is.”

Bucky rolled onto his back and threw his arm over his face. “Ugh, I _cannot_ believe they made me tell you that story!”

Steve rolled so he now lay with his head on Bucky’s shoulder. “It was sweet.”

He sighed. “At least Bobbi and I are besties now. But it still was not my finest moment.”

Steve kissed Bucky on the cheek. “Did I kill the mood?” he asked with a laugh.

“No. I mean, maybe. But probably not.” Bucky felt Steve laugh again.

“I’ve never laughed this much during sex. Or, well, making out. While having a hard on?”

Bucky giggled back. “It’s really fun. I’m fine if you want to stop—or we can keep going?”

Steve moved his leg so it was between Bucky’s and made him spread his legs a little; then he rolled on top of Bucky and kissed him again. “I would love to keep going,” he said as Bucky gasped. Their kisses grew more heated after the lull, their bodies pressed together. Bucky wiggled a little under Steve and they both moaned. He wrapped a leg around Steve's and shifted again to feel their hips touch. His dick was fully invested in the make-out session and was _very_ cramped in his jeans.

Steve pushed up on his elbows and gave Bucky a hot look. “I don't know how much more of this I can take before I make a mess. And I'm _not_ taking the train home with a wet crotch.”

Bucky rolled his hips one more time _just_ so he could feel Steve's hot length against his one last time. “Oofff, yeah. Stopping now is probably for the best. That sounds like an uncomfortable ride home. I have to give you lots of credit for having the self-control to stop before we went too far. I just kinda fall into whatever and either do everything right away or nothing at all.”

Steve was still on top of Bucky, his forehead resting on Bucky's collarbone. Bucky could feel the air on his neck from Steve's sigh. Steve moved and curled into Bucky's side with his arm around Bucky's waist.

“Yeah, remember when I said I had some bad relationships in my past? When I was young, like 20, I dated this pretty religious guy. He was fine being gay but not at all fine with premarital sex.

“He had some really weird hangups about sex, even masturbation, and so I got used to making out and getting really turned on and then stopping. I never pushed for more, of course, but he never asked me what I wanted. And I was so shy and in love, I just went along with what _he_ wanted instead of what _I_ wanted.

“Then about a year after we broke up, he met this other guy and apparently didn't care so much about not ‘going all the way’.”

“Oh, that sucks, I'm sorry.”

“It was a long time ago, but thanks. The only good thing to come of the relationship is that now I can stop when I want, instead of doing what my dick wants.”

Bucky half-hugged Steve on the bed. “I hate that you went through that. But I'm really glad you have a level head about sex. I've been with three guys and Bobbi, so I feel . . . really lacking in experience. I know you want to take things slow and I'm happy to do that for you but also it's for me. So, just. I don’t know. Words are hard when my penis is excited.”

Steve laughed.

“You make everything exciting, but not overwhelming. And I really appreciate that.”

Steve lifted his head and gave Bucky a peck on the lips. “Good. That's how you make me feel too.”

Steve stretched a little and checked his phone for the time. “Ugh, yeah, I better get home. I don't have to be up early, but it's still pretty late. Fuck it, I think I'll skip the train and Lyft it home.”

Bucky thought that sounded like a good plan. “You can stay here for a few more minutes?” he asked, hopefully.

Steve nodded and kissed him. He opened the app to request a car. “Yeah, it says my driver will be here in about twenty minutes. I can stay here for ten more?”

“Good,” Bucky said and he kissed Steve back. These kisses were more like their first kisses of the evening: unhurried, sweet, less passionate. Bucky loved both types of kisses but, in deference to Steve getting in a car with a stranger, he didn't try and deepen the kiss. After several minutes of pleasant, open-mouthed kisses, Steve rolled away and adjusted himself in his pants.

“I, uh, I should probably go outside now. Where it’s cold.”

“I'll walk you down?”

Steve smiled. “No, stay here. You look comfy. Walk me to the door?”

Bucky nodded and went to the door. He swept Steve up in a big hug.

“Tonight was great, I'll host next time,” Steve said while they hugged. Bucky felt a spark of excitement. He knew things were going well, but the promise of a “next time” still made him happy.

“That sounds great. Text me when you get home?” he asked, hoping he didn't sound needy.

“Course. I'll talk to you tomorrow?” Steve replied and Bucky nodded. He gave Bucky one last kiss before he left. Bucky stumbled back to his room, still aching a little from their make out session in his room. He quickly stripped and climbed in the sheets, loving the way they were still a little warm from Steve. He took matters into his own hands, and within minutes was gasping Steve's name as he came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been the chapter that I was most excited about. STEVE!!!! With his hair!!! And those lips!!! And that "come hither" gaze!!!
> 
> Yeah, I pretty much cried when Alby sent me the WIP. She is so talented, I swear she is not of this Earth. I don't understand how someone can take a oddly angled reference pic, a badly described look (there was _much_ discussion both in the doc an the CapBB Slack to get what I published), and create _Steve_. It's like she plucked him out of my brain.
> 
> Sorry for the flailing, he's just my favorite thing.
> 
> We are [Alby_mangroves](https://artgroves.tumblr.com) and [Pineau_noir](https://pineau-noir.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


	5. You can waste so many years of your life trying to become something hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, real life kicked my ass yesterday so the summary is:
> 
> The boys get ready for Comic Con and sexy times ensue. I'm like 90% sure! 
> 
> There will be updated tags as soon as I get to work and can change them.

“Sam! Sam! I don’t know what to do,” Bucky said helplessly as Sam walked in the door. He waved his phone. “Steve wants to take me out with _his co-workers_ this weekend! And they’re all so pretty and—and I’m just this schlub!”

“Come on, bring it in, man.” Sam opened his arms and Bucky stepped into the hug. “Take some deep breaths. It’s going to be fine. How much effort do you need to put into work today?”

Bucky stepped back and glanced at his work laptop on the kitchen table. “Uh, I need to check in and if I get something from a developer I’ll have to look at it but while they’re doing their thing, I’m pretty free.”

“OK. Let me get you a glass of ice water, sit at your computer and we will figure this out.”

“Thanks. I’m so glad you don’t work on Fridays!“

“Yeah, that was pretty clear from your text. ‘SOS 911 EMERGENCY’? Really? This is, at the most, a ‘Please help me not be such an introvert’ moment,” Sam said with a gentle smile. He waved his arms at the table. “Shoo, go sit. I know where everything is. I’ll be right back.”

Bucky collapsed into his chair. He let out a big sigh. Things were going so well with Steve and now he was going to have to act like a human person in front of Steve’s glamorous co-workers. He started to feel antsy again, but thankfully Sam came back to the dining room with water and a smile on his face.

“Here. Drink. I’m going to talk at you while you take some deep breaths because I’ve known you for too long to not know how to help you through a freak out.

“OK, so Steve wants you to meet his friends. That’s cool! That must mean he sees this going somewhere. Also, he just met all of us _yesterday_ and so he wants to return the favor. He did a great job with us and you’re going to do a great job with them.

“And didn’t you say you met his roommate last weekend? And she liked you? So you’ve got two people you know and who like you for who you are. I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings, but I also know how stressed you get in new situations. So I want you to drink your water and tell me three things you like about yourself and three things that you have in common with Steve.”

Bucky felt his breathing slow. He glanced at his laptop; still nothing for him.

“OK, so I’m reasonably intelligent. Um, I like my hair? I have made and kept some really good friends for a long time.”

“Great. Now what do you and Steve have in common?”

“He’s a nerd too—we like a lot of the same comics. We both think bad puns are hilarious.” 

Sam groaned. “Oh no, not two of you!” Bucky smirked at him.

“We have similar life experiences.”

Sam cocked his head. “Explain.”

Bucky thought for a moment and shrugged. “We both grew up in the same area at the same time. We have the same nostalgia for stupid shit like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and the original Care Bears and flannel and grunge bands from the ‘90s. We grew up thinking we were going to change the world but in reality we just have jobs and pay bills and have fun, but nothing earth-shattering. We’re both insecure about our bodies and relationships.”

They sat in silence for a minute at the table. Sam reached out and put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “That’s actually pretty insightful, man. ‘M not trying to be a douche either. And I know this is a really new thing for you, but for you to have opened up like that to each other, a couple of weeks in, is pretty good. Communication’s so important. You don’t have to tell each other everything right away, but it sounds like you’re building a strong foundation.

“So in that line of thinking, if this is too much, if you’re too overwhelmed about meeting a lot of his people tomorrow, tell him. It sounds like he will both care about your happiness and wants to make sure you’re comfortable with him.”

Bucky’s computer chimed. “Ugh, fuck, gotta work for a bit. I can take a lunch in like half an hour?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I’ll find something to watch.”

Bucky smiled at him. “Thanks, you’re a good guy, Sam.”

“So are you, Bucky.”

Bucky lost himself in the lines of code on the computer. His heart, which had been pounding, was now nice and steady. His breathing had gone from erratic to normal breaths. He _had_ been on the verge of a panic attack and was thankful to have such a level headed friend in Sam. His mind drifted to the night before, Steve meeting his friends and how natural it felt to have Steve with them all. He grabbed his phone.

 **[me]** How many people are going out tomorrow? 

Less than a minute passed and his phone buzzed.

 **[Steve]** Me, Sharon, Natasha, America, and Kate. Smallish group

 **[Steve]** Why? What’s up? 

**[me]** Nothing, just got in my head. Started to freak out a little, I’m fine now

 **[Steve]** We can absolutely stay in if you want. Or go out just the two of us again. I don’t want you to be stressed!

 **[me]** It’s OK. If it’s only 6 people, and you, me, and Sharon make up half the group I should be fine

Bucky paused for a moment.

 **[me]** I’m just not great with a large group of people that I don’t know. But three people seems manageable

 **[Steve]** Seriously, we can reschedule if it’s too much. I meet new people for a living so it doesn’t even make a blip on my anxiety meter. We can always plan something with individual people

 **[me]** Nah, let’s do it. I won’t be alone, you’ll be there

 **[Steve]** That’s so sweet I’m getting cavities. But hey, I’ve got to go, got a client who just arrived. Text me later tonight?

 **[me]** Yeah, sounds good. Thanks

Bucky spent the next twenty minutes working and listening to Sam laugh at whatever show he had decided to watch. He kept glancing at his phone, re-reading the messages from Steve, and smiling. Finally he got to a stopping point and he and Sam walked to lunch.

“Doing better?” Sam asked when they were almost to the cafe.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry to go all crazy.”

“Hey, we’ve all been there. Anxiety lies. Don’t feel bad. I’m just glad I could come over and help.”

\-----

Steve was acting normal. Totally and completely normal. Definitely not worried about Bucky meeting Nat. Nope, cool as a cucumber.

“I can feel you vibrating from _my_ room!” shouted Sharon.

“I'm fine!” Steve shouted back.

“Steve. Bucky is great. Natasha is great. I mean, she _probably_ won't threaten to gut him like a fish in Russian, but I mean, if she does? What are the odds he speaks Russian?” Sharon said as she walked into Steve's room. “Ooh, I like that shirt on you.”

Steve looked down. “I wear this all the time?”

“Yeah, and I like it every time. So let's have a drink and wait on your boy and we can play with his hair until we need to leave to go to the bar.”

Bucky arrived half way through their first glass of wine. Steve was feeling decidedly giggly by then. He wasn’t _drunk_ , just relaxed, and everything was suddenly funny.

“Hey Buck! You’re here!” he said as he snuggled into Bucky’s arms.

“Hey there, Steve. I like your shirt.”

Steve looked down again. His shirt was nothing special, just a black lace button up. He shrugged. “Sharon said that too. I like _your_ shirt,” he said, petting Bucky's navy sweater like it was a cat.

Bucky blushed. “Thanks. Bobbi picked it out.”

“Oh, she came over to help?” Sharon asked.

“No. She, um, she bought it for me? I hate shopping and she said she wanted me to have something that wasn’t a graphic t-shirt for going out, so she ordered me, like, four shirts for Christmas last year.”

Sharon laughed. She walked to where Steve and Bucky were standing, linked their arms and led them to the bathroom. “I like Bobbi already. Come on, Bucky, Steve and I are going to play.”

Steve smiled. Sharon was so much fun to live with, and not just because they would pamper each other. They had chatted a little about how to make sure Bucky was comfortable with their friends, but pampering _him_ was unexpected and Steve was glad she suggested it.

Sharon and Steve gave Bucky the works; a few small braids from each temple met in the back to form a small bun. They threw in some loose curls so he had a sort of half updo with waves. Bucky blushed and stammered the entire time and Steve was thoroughly charmed. When they brought out the mirror so he could see the back, his jaw dropped.

“You—you guys, this is amazing. Thanks so much!”

Steve beamed at him. “Hey, nothing but the best for my best guy.”

“Gross,” Sharon snarked. “Come on, it’s time to meet everybody.”

They made it to the bar, this one within walking distance from Steve’s apartment. America and Kate were already there, waiting outside.

“Steve and Sharon!” shouted Kate.

“Kate, we _just_ saw them a couple of hours ago at work. Calm down,” her girlfriend said with a fond smile.

“I know, but it’s so much more fun to be _out_ of work with them,” Kate answered.

“OK, _chica_.” America turned to Bucky. “Hi, I’m America, and this is my ridiculous other half, Kate. I’m assuming you’re Bucky.”

Steve reached down,grabbed Bucky’s hand, and gave it a hard squeeze. He had not forgotten Bucky’s trepidation over meeting Steve’s friends. Bucky squeezed back and smiled.

“Great to meet you! Steve has said wonderful things about both of you,” Bucky replied.

Steve’s friends chatted happily while they waited for Natasha to arrive. After a few minutes she walked up, gave everyone a hug and held out her hand to Bucky.

“Hello. I’m Natasha. Steve is a very dear person to me. I will find out where you live and do unspeakable things to you if you deliberately hurt him. Understood?”

“Nat!” Steve shouted. “Uncalled for! I’m not a child.”

“No, my love, you are not, but you’re a fool when it comes to pretty faces and Bucky’s face is very pretty.”

Steve watched the emotions flash over Bucky’s face. He squeezed Bucky’s hand again. “Sorry, she’s just a little protective. She’s been with me through a couple of bad breakups,” he whispered.

Bucky looked at Steve and squeezed his hand back. “Gotcha.” He turned and looked at Natasha. “I would never _deliberately_ hurt Steve. And while we both know he’s his own person and can take care of himself, I’m glad he’s got such protective friends. Also, thanks?” He cocked his head. “Was that a compliment at the end?”

Natasha laughed while Sharon, Kate, and America just watched with amused looks on their faces. “Oh, you’ll be fine. Come on, first round of vodka is on me.”

Steve decided to stop after the first round of shots. He and Sharon had had a pre-bar wine buzz, but it had faded, and he knew how strongly liquor affected him. He wanted a clear head to make sure Bucky didn’t get overwhelmed. His friends were great, but they could be loud and they all had _big_ personalities. He watched as they all talked and laughed and made fun of each other. He watched Bucky relax more and more. They finally reached a topic that made Steve want to contribute to the conversation. 

“Yeah, we’re _totally_ going to New York Comic Con next month! Kate and I are going to dress up like our favorite comic book characters, Hawkeye and Hawkeye, master archers,” America said.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “They’re just your favorite because you think Kate looks like Bishop, the lady Hawkeye.”

“Ha! You _have_ read them!” Kate accused. “Because the dude Hawkeye _totally_ looks like Clint! And you love Clint, even if he’s not great at adulting.”

Sharon piped in. “She’s not wrong, boss.”

Bucky looked at Steve and smiled. 

“Yeah, my people are just as ridiculous as your people,” Steve whispered. “So a group of us go every year. And since Kate is a make-up artist, and Sharon and I sew—”

“You sew too?” Bucky asked with surprise in his voice.

Steve smiled a little sadly. Sewing was one of the last things he and his mother did together. He nodded.

“Yeah. Not a lot, but enough to cosplay every year. So yeah, we go all out for New York Comic Con.”

“Do you want to go with us?” Kate asked.

“Me and my roommates have tickets. I don't want to intrude.”

“No! It will be fun! We go on Sundays since the salon is closed. And Peter and Wade are great. We can all go. I mean...unless you want it just to be the three of you. Or if you don't want to go on Sunday…” Steve trailed off as started picking at his cuticle. “No pressure.”

Bucky kissed him, right on the mouth, in plain sight of everybody at the table and surrounding tables. “I would love to go with you. As long as my roommates can go too. These things are so much more fun as a group, anyway.”

“So it’s decided,” Natasha pronounced. “We’ll all go. I’m sure everyone will have a great time.”

Steve relaxed. His friends seemed to really like Bucky. And they were going to go to Comic Con together! Steve had always wanted to go _with_ someone but until now, only his friends had been interested. That was fun, of course, but he thought having it be a big date would be so much more fun.

\-----

As the weeks passed, and the countdown to Comic Con began in earnest, Bucky was shocked to realize he and Steve had been dating a month. Somehow, all at once, felt like they had just met and that they had been dating for years. Bucky and Steve kept up with their little meal meetups during the week and then, on the weekends, went out with a group of friends, or to a movie, or, on one exciting Sunday afternoon, they traveled to Red Hook to play indoor mini golf. Bucky was surprised at how competitive Steve got, but also oddly charmed. Their make out sessions had also gotten heavier and more intense, with the addition of wandering hands. They were still taking things slow, but Bucky could now say he knew what Steve looked and sounded like when he came. 

Nothing compared to the excitement Bucky felt the night before NYCC. They had decided that Bucky would stay the night with Steve so they could get ready together. They hadn’t planned on anything extravagant; Bucky had settled on wearing jeans and a shirt that referenced a silly moment in his favorite comic (“Eats nuts! Kicks butts!”). Steve put a little more effort into his outfit. He was going to wear his Wonder Woman shirt, skinny jeans (of course), and a abstract tiara and bracelets. Sharon was sitting this year out: none of the celebrities were people she was interested in meeting, and she had a new beau so she decided to spend the day with him. Natasha was planning something big but hadn’t told anyone what it was, and Kate and America were going as both Hawkeyes. Wade told Bucky and Steve that he and Peter had a plan and “It’s going to blow your fucking mind.”.

They were _trying_ , rather unsuccessfully, to go to sleep. But Steve would think of an artist he wanted to meet or Bucky would talk about a panel they wanted to go see and they would get excited and any drowsiness would be gone in an instant. They started trading favorite comic book quotes and laughed as they got increasingly more silly.

“This feels like a grade school sleepover,” he whispered to Steve after their giggles died down again.

“I didn’t really do those much. I didn’t have a lot of friends until high school and then college.”

“Well, in my experience, it was usually laughing about stupid shit and then having a burping contest.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Yeah, can’t say I missed much then. I do have a suggestion, if we want to journey past the school sleepover phase?”

“Oh yeah, what?” Bucky managed to say before Steve rolled on top of him.

“This?” he asked with a smirk.

“Oh, yeah, I can definitely get behind this,” Bucky said as he bit his lower lip. 

Steve leaned down and coaxed his lip out so _he_ could nibble on it. He bit ever so gently as Bucky moaned. “Do you feel like moving forward a little?” Steve whispered.

“Yeah—yeah—that sounds great. What did you have in mind?”

“I’d really like to suck your dick.” 

Bucky gasped. His thoughts immediately went to how Steve’s warm mouth would feel on him and he shifted his hips. 

“Yeah, I think we should do that for each other,” he countered.

Steve just leaned down and kissed him again. “Shirt off, pants off,” he ordered.

Bucky shivered. He _knew_ Steve must remember their first night together, when the topic of being ordered around first came up. He was _very_ enthusiastic about where this might be going. 

“Do you like that?” Steve asked, solemnly. “I know we haven’t talked about this before, not really, and I don’t want to go too far—”

“Yeah, no, something small like that is great. Do it again?” Bucky panted as he felt his blood head south.

“OK. _Shirt off, pants off_ ,” Steve repeated.

Bucky gracelessly stripped and felt Steve’s eyes roam his body. He fought the urge to curl in on himself. He was happy with his body, but knew he didn’t have the lithe figure of his early 20s. Having a desk job meant he was just a little round in the middle and while he didn’t dwell on it, the first time he was completely bare in front of a partner, he was always a little self-conscious. However, Steve’s expression just got darker.

“Good boy. You look so pretty like this. You're so soft and perfect for me. You did so well to listen. Can I play with your hair and kiss you again while you’re like this?”

Bucky nodded, his mouth gone dry. Clearly his little tummy wasn’t a problem to Steve. He felt sparks when Steve called him _pretty_. He also appreciated the little check-ins since they were diving into a tiny bit of kink without discussing it first.

Steve positioned himself back between Bucky’s thighs again but this time his cotton shorts rubbed against Bucky’s bare skin, making him moan. Steve’s shorts were so soft against his half-hard dick. Steve correctly took his moan as consent and gently rubbed his covered crotch against Bucky. He gasped a little.

“Do you like that? Does it feel good?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

Bucky nodded. He had hard evidence that what they were doing had an effect on Steve as well. He swiveled his hips under Steve and leaned up to capture his mouth again. This time the kiss was hot and fast, teeth nipping, tongues licking into each other. Steve moved to the side and started nibbling down Bucky’s neck and ground their pelvises together. Bucky took a few stuttering breaths. 

“Tell me if I do something you don’t like,” Steve growled. Bucky could only nod.

Steve started exploring Bucky’s body, raising chill bumps down his arms and legs. He nipped and licked the juncture where Bucky’s left shoulder met his neck and Bucky groaned. He bit down _hard_ and Bucky’s hips jerked up.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” Steve mumbled into the spot before he moved to the right side and repeated the action. He kept moving, biting and then licking away the sting. Bucky was on fire. His cock was thick and heavy between his thighs, his hips making little jerks, his breathing ragged. Steve teased and bit and licked his earlobes, his neck, his lips, all the while rubbing his soft, cotton covered body over Bucky's bare skin. Bucky felt sweat gather behind his neck, beneath his knees, as he gasped and groaned. But Steve didn’t stop, no, he moved to new territory, teasing at Bucky’s nipples and letting his hand wander down to cup Bucky’s erection. Steve made a loose circle with his hand, something he knew from experience was a huge tease, and Bucky spat out a curse.

“Fuck, Steve. Fuck,” he gasped.

Steve gave a couple of loose pulls before he stopped completely. “Good boy; so pretty with your hair all over my pillow, your soft skin rubbing on me. This is new territory. Can I check in one last time? I know we talked about it, but I want to make sure you're OK with this.”

Bucky groaned at being called a “good boy,” looked at Steve with hooded eyes. “Honestly, I’m happy to have whatever you want to give me. I mean, within reason.”

“Yeah, lots of talks before we do things. I like that.” He smiled and then shimmied his body so his shoulders were at Bucky’s thighs.

Bucky could feel Steve’s breath, hot and wet, and his dick twitched. Steve’s weight pressed against his thighs, the ghost of Steve’s hands lingering on his cock. Then— _then_ —he felt Steve’s tongue lick a broad stripe the length of him. Steve wiggled a little and gently caressed his balls. Bucky quickly glanced down and looked at Steve: his weight on his left elbow and his hand rubbing Bucky’s hip. Steve's head dipped to swallow his tip and Bucky felt suction on his most sensitive area.

That was the last thing Bucky could focus on. After Steve got his mouth on his dick, the sensations were too intense to pay attention to any one thing. Steve’s mouth felt better than Bucky had imagined: hot, wet, and just the right amount of pressure. Bucky lasted an embarrassingly short time before he started rambling.

“Oh—oh, god. Steve, that feels so good. Don’t stop. I’m gonna—” he started.

Steve just increased his speed and moved his hand to the base of Bucky’s dick so he could stroke what he couldn’t fit in his mouth. He hummed and bobbed and Bucky moaned.

“If you don’t want a mouthful of come, this is your warning,” he managed to say.

Steve hummed more and Bucky clenched his eyes shut, fumbled to grab Steve’s hand and felt pressure grow and grow at his core. His toes curled. His breathing became choppy and then Steve tightened his grip and Bucky was done. He hit the peak and then he was flying. 

Steve stroked his legs, kissing at his hips when he came back down.

“That was amazing. Holy shit,” he said as he caught his breath. “Let me return the favor?”

Steve’s eyes were dark. He nodded and got up so he could strip down. He lay down next to Bucky and rubbed the heel of his hand down the length of his uncut dick. (Bucky was in new territory, but he _liked_ it.) Bucky moved down so he could tongue at the head and experiment with the foreskin. It was obviously the right thing to do, because Steve let out a loud groan. He licked his palm so he could stroke Steve with less friction and then just played with his head.

He enjoyed the feel of Steve, hot and thick in his mouth. He gently ran his tongue around the head of Steve's cock and heard him gasp.

“Yeah, yeah, that feels good. Just—just like that,” Steve groaned. Bucky smirked as well as he could with his mouth full of Steve. 

He started to shallowly bob his head so he could take more of Steve into his mouth, using his hand to stroke what he couldn't fit. Alternating pressure, alternating speeds and he could feel Steve start to tremble. He concentrated his efforts into making Steve moan and gasp and shake.

A few minutes of that and Steve was gasping and spilling into Bucky’s mouth. “I—I thought.... You said you were fairly inexperienced?” he said between breaths.

Bucky blushed. “I mean I am, but I’ve given a decent amount of blow jobs.”

Steve smirked down at him and made grabby hands. “Hey, come give me a kiss? Or I’ve got mouthwash if—aghhhh—” 

Bucky cut him off with a big kiss. He curled up next to Steve and rested his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“This was a good idea. I’m super—” Bucky yawned. “I’m super relaxed.”

“Yeah, me too. Naked snuggles and sleeping? If I have to go brush my teeth I’m going to wake up again,” Steve said softly.

“Yeah, we’ll just let future Bucky and Steve worry about morning dick breath.”

“Don’t make me giggle, asshole! I’m trying to go to sleep!” Steve said as he leaned down and they shared a sweet kiss. “Night, Buck. Big day tomorrow.”

“Night, Steve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are [Alby_mangroves](https://artgroves.tumblr.com) and [Pineau_noir](https://pineau-noir.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


	6. In order not to break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NYCC!!!

Since they had spent the night before giggling and doing _other_ things, waking early was extremely unwelcome. Steve cursed his phone when the alarm started to chime.

“Why did we decide to do this?” he whined. He rolled over and realized the bed was empty. He got up, threw some clothes on just in case Sharon was awake, and stumbled down the hall to the bathroom. After he completed his business in there, he lurched to the kitchen where he smelled—bacon? And coffee?

He saw Bucky, hair in a stubby ponytail, loose strands going crazy, leaning over a pan that did indeed contain bacon. And bless him, he had skipped the drip machine and made a pot of coffee with the French press. Steve could see a carton of eggs out and the bread was hanging out by the toaster.

“Oh my god, Buck, just marry me and be my house-husband and make me breakfast every day?” he slurred, still half-asleep and only half kidding.

Bucky turned around with a big grin on his face. “We’ve got to have a big breakfast because it’s a big day, Steve! It’s COMIC CON!” he shouted. Steve winced a little at the volume. Bucky noticed Steve’s reaction and rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “Sorry, it’s just one of my favorite days of the year. Sharon’s not here, but I didn’t realize you would be sex hungover.” He giggled and turned back to check on the food.

Steve shuffled up to Bucky and wrapped his arms around his middle, planting a kiss at the base of his neck.

“No, ignore me, this is amazing. Thank you so much. Couple of cups of coffee and we should be at the same volume.” He emphasized his appreciation with a quick hug. Then, as he _hadn’t_ had coffee and standing was difficult, he went to a dining chair and slumped down in it. 

“The coffee should be almost ready,” Bucky said as he checked the timer. “So, OK, I have to take a quick shower, but I’m just going to let my hair air dry, and we need to get dressed—do you need to shower? It should only take us like 40-45 minutes to get to Javits Center. We should have plenty of time. Sorry, I know I’m rambling, I got like three hours of sleep because I’m so hyped and also I wanted to make breakfast. Sorry—I’ll shut up—”

Steve was tired, yes, but he was also incredibly charmed at this hyper version of Bucky. “Sweetheart, you’re so adorable. I don’t want you to shut up. Just—I’ll drink some coffee and then I’ll be more awake and we can be excited together.”

“Sweetheart?” Bucky teased.

“Aren’t you?” Steve countered.

Bucky abruptly turned to check on the food—he was up to scrambling eggs at this point—but Steve heard him murmur, “Yeah, I am.” When he turned around again, to hand Steve his coffee, the eggs were almost done.

Steve got up, kissed the tip of Bucky’s nose, took his mug, and said “Thanks, sweetheart,” just to watch Bucky blush.

They ate breakfast together, Steve growing gradually more awake as his coffee worked its magic. Things went as Bucky planned and they made it to the Javits Center right on time to meet Peter, Wade, Natasha, America, and Kate. Steve’s jaw dropped when he saw Nat walk up with Clint. Natasha was in a black catsuit with a red hourglass logo on her belt, red hair teased into a 1960s flip.

He pointed at her. “You! You!” he started. “And Clint!”

“Da, darling,” she said, letting her Russian accent bleed through. “I am the Black Widow. It was the obvious choice. We’re both Russian and can kill men with our thighs.”

Clint waved a little awkwardly. “I’m just me. I mean, I grew up in the circus so I don’t really have to add to the excitement that is my life.”

Then America and Kate walked up and posed; as promised, they were the Hawkeyes.

“Hey, you guys look great! Lady Hawkeye and Dude Hawkeye!” Bucky said. 

“Your costume is very nice,” Natasha told Kate as she looked over the purple jumpsuit that had circles cut out at the hips, various straps and a quiver for her arrows. “And America, nice shirt.”

America straightened her shoulders you show of the purple bullseye in the middle of her shirt. “Yeah, I thought my character would be fine with me just buying a shirt on the internet and then putting bandages all over my body. His laziness spoke to my laziness. My girl though, she went all out and is stunning. Isn’t she stunning?”

They all nodded and started picking out their favorite aspects of the other’s cosplay. After a few more minutes, Peter and Wade walked up and everyone gaped at them. They had come as Beauty and the Beast: Wade was in an off the shoulder yellow ball gown and long curly brown wig; Peter’s hair had been teased out, he had horns and some sort of snout on his face, and a royal blue suit finished off his costume. 

America stared at them. “Fuck. I guess you win cosplay. Today.”

Wade spun in a circle and squeed. Steve was amazed; apparently Wade had some serious, high-powered job, but on his own he acted like a kid all hyped up on sugar. He envied Wade's ability to really let go and not care about society's expectations. 

“OK! Let's go be nerds!” Wade shouted.

They all went into the convention center and did the boring stuff: waited in line to get in, had a weapons check, got a map. At last they were _finally_ in the convention hall. Steve took a deep breath and looked around. It being Sunday, things were less hectic than the day before, but there were still rows upon rows of vendors, long lines to get autographs, even longer lines at the bathrooms, and people dressed up as anyone and anything that could be imagined. 

He reached down and grabbed Bucky's hand to check in; he knew Bucky wasn't great in big crowds. But when he saw his face, he just saw bright eyes and a big smile.

“Isn't it great, Stevie? It's one of my favorite things in the world,” Bucky said when he noticed Steve staring.

Steve smiled and nodded and let himself be lead around to different tables and booths. He didn't care what they did as long as he got to meet a specific comic book artist and get his autograph. After a couple of hours of looking at Funko Pops, fanart, an entire booth that only had enamel pins, a woman who made chain mail earrings, and more comics than any one person could ever read, Bucky led him to a table.

Steve gawked. _That was Phil._ Phil Coulson, who drew for Black Widow, Jonah Hex, X-23. He was just _sitting_ there like he hadn’t changed Steve’s perception of comics and created unrealistic hair goals. Steve would give his left something, not arm because he needed both of them to do hair, but he would give some part of the left side of his body to create hair like Black Widow’s in real life. And Phil was just this quiet, middle aged guy doing watercolors on a banquet table with nothing on it but his art supplies. He was surrounded by a bunch of fellow artists who had banners and merchandise and so much color; he stuck out because his table was so _bare_.

Bucky gave Steve a little nudge. “Go on, get your comic out. I know you’re excited to meet him,” he whispered.

Steve walked up, made awkward eye contact, stuttered, “C—could—that is, do you mind signing my comic?” and kind of shoved his copy of Black Widow #8 (the cover with Black Widow and the Winter Soldier on it) at Phil. Phil! (Steve thrilled at his inner monologue calling someone he admired by his first name.) Phil said, “Sure.” He signed it and Steve mumbled some sort of garbled “Thanks” and Phil went back to his art.

“You’re my favorite artist!” Steve managed to croak out.

Phil looked up again. He gave Steve a gentle smile. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

Then Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and walked away as fast as he could.

“Hohmygod, Bucky, that was Phil Coulson and I met him and talked to him and I can’t believe we just did that and that was totally worth the price of admission,” Steve said in a rush. 

Bucky laughed and it was like music. “You’re so cute, Steve. I’m so glad we did this together.”

Steve just smiled and hugged his comic to his chest and tugged Bucky’s head down for a quick kiss.

 _Later,_ after Steve had calmed down from the rush, he asked Bucky what his favorite part was. 

“I liked everything,” he responded. “I liked seeing all the cosplay, meeting the comic book writers and artists, the panel we snuck into, and this,” he hefted his Tower Bridge Lego set up, “plus my crossover picture of Princess Leia in her Hamilton costume.”

“Yeah, those are pretty cool.”

“But what I liked the most was spending the day with you and our friends.”

Steve looked down at the floor, suddenly a little uncharacteristically shy. “I’m glad you had fun with us. It was a lot of fun going with you and Peter and Wade.”

\-----

Bucky always took the morning after Comic Con off and Steve decided to stay the night at Bucky’s, which meant Bucky woke up warm and happy. He and Steve were back to back, so he rolled over and fit the front of his body to the back of Steve's and drifted off again. A little bit later he woke up to Steve moving. “Hey, ‘morning,” he mumbled into the back of Steve’s neck.

“Hey, this is a great way to wake up,” Steve replied, as he snuggled back into Bucky. “Are your roommates here?”

Bucky rolled a little and grabbed his phone. He barked out a laugh when he saw the time. “Shit, it’s noon. Yeah, no, they’re long gone.”

“So in theory, we could take a shower together? Because we’re both a little funky from yesterday,” Steve asked with a smirk.

Bucky’s breath stopped for a brief second. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. It’s a small shower,” he warned.

“That’s OK. I don’t take up a lot of room.”

After a long shower, a couple of handjobs, and clean clothes, Bucky started looting through his kitchen. “Well, we’ve got cereal and some breakfast bars. We don’t do much most days for breakfast. I usually have cereal and coffee while I work and Peter and Wade do _something_? I don’t know, I don’t pay that much attention. But we have a big pancake dinner a couple of times a month.”

“That’s fine—we can go for a walk and find somewhere that has brunch?” Steve suggested.

“Yeah, there’s a place that does a bunch of bagels and spreads like two blocks away. I really like their everything bagel with their lox spread.” 

Steve made a face. “Ugh, breakfasts are for sweet things, Buck.”

Bucky laughed. “Says the guy who drinks his coffee black.”

“Yeah, because I like to eat sweet things and I need something to counter the sweetness.”

“You’re strange. Let’s go get bagels.”

Steve smiled and poked at him. “Yeah, but I’m _you’re_ kind of strange.

They had settled into their chairs, coffee and food on the table, when Bucky learned something rather alarming about Steve.

“Never? Not even once?”

Steve looked down at his food and sighed. “No, I've never seen an episode of _Brooklyn 99_.”

“But—but—it's amazing? And we _live_ in Brooklyn? Steve. Steve. I really feel like this is something you would enjoy.”

“I didn't have any way to watch it when it started and when I move in with Sharon, watching TV was not on my list of priorities. It was after my big breakup and there just wasn't a lot that I found funny.”

Bucky felt like an ass. He looked down and mumbled something along the lines of “Sorry, didn't mean to be a douche,” when Steve's light touch made him look up.

“I'm not saying I don't _want_ to watch it, I'm just telling you why I haven't yet. If you think I would enjoy it, let's watch it.” Steve smiled at Bucky. “I'm always happy to learn more about your interests.”

“Oh, Steve. Nine Nine isn't an interest; it's a _lifestyle_. I've got all the seasons at home if you want to watch them when we get back? Or we can do something else! Something that you want to do, instead. I'm not going to pressure you!”

Steve laughed. “No, it's fine.” His stomach growled. “That sounds like a fun afternoon. But I think I want to destroy this chocolate chip muffin first.”

Bucky nodded. “Smort. You'll get how funny that is later. Let's eat and then we can go watch some quality programming.”

Steve and Bucky got into a habit of spending the night together almost every Saturday night when Bucky showed him Wade’s “big secret.”.

“OK, so I love Wade, I mean, you know, in that I sort of tolerate him some days and really enjoy his company other days. _However,_ this is one of the things that is firmly in the hilarious but exasperating category. He cannot remember his keys. Ever,” Bucky said with a dry tone. “So if there’s ever an emergency or you feel like coming over, text me or Peter first. Just grab a key, don’t worry about us letting you in.” Then, to Steve’s surprise Bucky showed him no less than _six_ hidey-holes for keys. 

“This seems like a terrible plan...” Steve started. He was concerned for their safety; having so many keys to the same apartment seemed like a really terrible idea. As they took the tour of keys (one was on the roof! One was in a fake knocker on their second floor neighbor’s door! One was in a fake rock that was in the pot of a fake plant!) Steve realized they had actually been pretty clever in their hiding places. 

“Yeah, Wade has a really strategic mind. So while he can’t _remember_ his keys on the way out, he can figure out the best places to hide spares. And he changes a couple of them every month or two. The one on the roof is always there. He said if anybody wanted to steal our shit enough to go up six floors on the rickety fire escape, they probably needed what we have more than we do.”

“OK. While this seems weird, I’ll definitely text one of you if I want to come over. I mean, it will be you because I don’t really know Peter.”

“Yeah, but like if I’m in the shower or doing something and I don’t answer back in a couple of minutes, let him know.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, OK. I can do that.”

\-----

So far, Steve had not taken Bucky up on the offer to sneak in, but one night he woke up from a dream about Brock and he sent a quick text.

 **[me]** I know it’s the middle of the night, but can I come over? Things are weird. I’m so sorry

He waited, hugging himself and rocking back and forth, feeling gross from his mixed emotions; happiness in the dream because he and Brock were still in their lovey honeymoon stage, but regret and sorrow when he woke up and his head was clear. He felt discombobulated from the warring emotions. Finally his phone buzzed.

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** Course. You know where the key is. Wake me up when you get here for snuggles

After that night, Steve was much more likely to come over for snuggles. His work schedule, being what it was—only four days on and three of them being later starts—meant he had the freedom to travel to Bucky’s more than if he had a regular 9-5 job. He tried not to be clingy, but he had gone so long without healthy human touch since his breakup and he yearned for it. He knew he had a tendency to be brittle. He hated that he couldn’t let himself be as free with physical contact as most people, but he seemed to lose all of those reservations with Bucky. 

He especially liked the nights when he would climb into bed and they would watch something on Bucky's laptop and giggle for hours. Steve couldn't remember a time after his mom passed that he had laughed so much. He told that to Bucky one night when they were snuggling and watching _Brooklyn 99 _. (Steve admitted that Bucky was right: it was an _amazing_ show.)__

__“Oh, Steve, I'm so sorry. How long has she been gone?”_ _

__“‘Bout ten years. It still sucks. I know it's been a long time and I should just move on—”_ _

__Bucky interrupted. “No. No, Steve, that's bullshit. You lost your mom. There's no timeline for grief. You can feel sad about that until the day you die if you want.”_ _

__Steve rolled over until his face was all the way squished into Bucky's chest. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “I've had people in the past tell me I was wallowing in my sadness and needed to move forward. But I miss her every day. I wish she could meet you.”_ _

__Bucky kissed him on the top of his head. “I'm sorry anybody made you feel that way. And I wish I could have met her. If she raised you, I imagine she was a wonderful woman.”_ _

__Steve lifted up his head and rubbed his nose against Bucky's nose and gave him a little kiss. “I think the two of you would have gotten along really well.”_ _

__\-----_ _

__Bucky was cleaning up some dishes because Steve had let him know he was going to come over for lunch and, although Steve definitely suspected from all of his visits, that they lived like animals, Bucky didn’t actually want him to see the evidence. So, dishes._ _

__His phone rang. He was expecting it to be Steve but was delighted when he saw it was his sister. He had to put it on speaker phone because he still had half a sink to finish._ _

__“Hey, Becks!”_ _

__“Hey, baby brother!”_ _

__Bucky rolled his eyes. They were _twins_._ _

__“It’s been so long since we both had time to talk! Tell me what’s new in your life? Still got the boring job? Anything exciting happen at Comic Con?”_ _

__“Not much, Wade and Peter were Beauty and the Beast.”_ _

__“Let me guess, Peter was the Beast and Wade wore the dress?”_ _

__“How—you know, nothing about you surprises me anymore. I just have to accept that you know everything.”_ _

__Becca laughed. “So, spill, anything, _anybody_ new?”_ _

__“Nah, not really.”_ _

__She made a noise._ _

__“OK, OK, yes, I’m seeing someone.” He heard a faint noise from the living room._ _

__“Hey, hang on, I’m expecting him to come in any minute, let me check the door. Maybe you can say hi.”_ _

__Bucky walked into the living room to investigate but didn’t see anything. He knew Steve would just let himself in so he wrote it off as the old building shifting._ _

__“Yeah, so his name is Steve and he’s really great,” he started up again when he reached the phone. “I really like him. We’re going a little slow so…”_ _

__“So no sex yet?” she teased._ _

__“Ugh, I am not telling you about my sex life!”_ _

__Becca laughed again. “I know! I don’t honestly want to know anything about it but I know it makes you blush.”_ _

__“OK, well, then I _will_ tell you about it. Steve makes this noise…”_ _

__“No! No! Uncle!” Becca shouted through her laughter. “You won this round,” she conceded._ _

__After a few more minutes of catching up, more details about Steve and how amazing he was and how smitten Bucky was, and little things about Becca’s life, Violet was walking and using more and more words now that she was a year and a half, which made Bucky desperately want to visit his sister and her family, his phone buzzed. He smiled when it saw it was Steve._ _

__**[Steve]** I’m sorry but this isn’t working out_ _

__“Hey, hey, Becks, I gotta go…” he trailed off and ended the call._ _

__**[me]** Why?_ _

__**[me]** What happened?_ _

__**[me]** Tell me what's wrong? I'm sorry you feel like this and I'll leave you alone but, what happened? I was just telling my sister about you and how well things were going_ _

__**[me]** Steve?_ _

__**[me]** ok I'll leave you alone_ _

__**[me]** Sam? Can you come over? Steve just broke up with me_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry!!!
> 
> But also, I promise a happy ending!!! Like, it has been written and it is being edited _right now_!!!
> 
> We are [Alby_mangroves](https://artgroves.tumblr.com) and [Pineau_noir](https://pineau-noir.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


	7. But it’s the soft things that can’t break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An explanation on why Steve sent that text.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See the end notes for possible spoilers but also for some warnings! Nothing is really out there but this was nicknamed "The Angst Chapter" for a reason.
> 
> Thank you daphneblithe for making it extra angst-ridden. You're so lovely my friend.

Steve let himself in to Bucky's apartment. They had a lunch date planned and he was a few minutes early. He was taking off his coat when he heard Bucky's phone ring.

“Hey Becks!”

“Hey baby brother!”

Steve smiled. He knew Bucky was younger by about thirty seconds but Becca loved to tease him about it. Steve always wished for a sibling, somebody he would still have after his ma passed. But—

“It’s been so long since we both had time to talk! Tell me what’s new in your life? Still got the boring job? Anything exciting happen at Comic Con?”

“Not much. Wade and Peter were Beauty and the Beast.”

“Let me guess, Peter was the Beast and Wade wore the dress?”

“How—you know, nothing about you surprises me anymore. I just have to accept that you know everything.”

She laughed, bright and musical like her brother. “So, spill, anything, _anybody_ new?”

“Nah, not really.”

Steve went still, the smile on his face gone; a distant buzzing in his ears meant the rest of their conversation was garbled. He fled, dazed. Echoes of conversations with Brock filled his head, “Sorry, babe, I just can’t introduce you to my folks, they’ll never understand”; “I would _love_ to have you over but my neighbors are busy-bodies”; everything that made him feel less than worthy of love flooded his mind. He walked back out, closing the door as quietly as possible. He _knew_ he shouldn’t do this over a text, but—he couldn’t look at Bucky and remember their laughter, Bucky’s blushes. He shook his head, hurried down the stairs, got his phone out.

 **[me]** I’m sorry but this isn’t working out

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** Why?

Steve’s hands were shaking. The messages were hard to read because he couldn’t steady himself. _I thought he was different. I can’t do this again_ , he thought.

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** What happened?

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** Tell me what's wrong? I'm sorry you feel like this and I'll leave you alone but, what happened? I was just telling my sister about you and how well things were going

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** Steve?

 **[buckywiththegoodhair]** ok I'll leave you alone

He hurried to the subway station, texted Sharon saying he was on his way home: that he needed her, that things weren’t good, things weren’t fine. He’d lost what he thought he had found; someone who cared about him.

Tears dripped down his cheeks and he roughly wiped them away, glaring at any passenger who dared to look at him with any sort of pity. He got his ear buds out and jammed them in, pressing play on whatever song was last on.

Florence Welch’s voice came on, raw and bare and vulnerable.

> _And it’s hard to write about being happy_  
>  _‘Cause the older I get_  
>  _I find that happiness is an extremely uneventful subject_  
>  _And there would be no choirs to sing_  
>  _No chorus to come in_  
>  _About two people sitting doing nothing_  
> 

He went numb. Changed the track to something else. Somehow he made the entire trip home, running on autopilot, getting off at the right stop, walking in the right direction, opening his door, collapsing in tears on the bed, into Sharon’s kind arms.

\-----

#### Five Years Ago

Steve met Brock when he was young and the world was still bright and shiny. He was done with college, finished with cosmetology school, and was working as an assistant in Midtown. Brock was a regular; handsome like the classic movie stars Steve always crushed on. They gently flirted and after a few months, they exchanged numbers. Texts flew, and one day Brock asked him out.

Steve never had a first date go as well as his first date with Brock. They both somehow knew exactly the right thing to say. It was like magic—it was like floating—it was like a dream. They didn’t fall into bed that night, which just made Steve think more highly of Brock, that he wasn’t after Steve for sex.

Several more perfect dates later, they did have sex. Brock made Steve wait in the living room while he set things up in Steve’s room. Steve felt more than charmed, he felt cherished; he felt the first stirrings of love for this man who would take the time to light candles, spread rose petals over the bed, find Steve’s favorite wine. They had sex, no, _made love,_ and Steve felt himself fall for Brock even more. The gentle way Brock touched him, kissed him, whispered endearments into his skin. Then he opened Steve up so slowly, like he was a treasure—and yeah, it was a little awkward getting the position right the first time, but that just made everything better: the perfection in the imperfection.

They kept dating, things getting more and more serious. Brock would spend the night at Steve’s or they would go for a little mini-vacation on long weekends. Steve thought he had finally found "the one”, as cheesy as that sounded. He felt butterflies in his stomach when he thought about Brock, felt a smile cross his face when he saw something that reminded him of Brock out in the city. He was, without a doubt, falling deeply in love.

\-----

Steve knew Brock wasn’t out at work, knew that this relationship, the fact that Brock wasn’t the cookie cutter white cis-het male that he presented himself as, wore on him. He understood that when Brock told him he was beautiful, even with hair sticking out, morning breath, and a big zit on his forehead, he was saying he loved Steve. Steve knew it was just his repressed upbringing standing in the way. He didn’t blame Brock, he loved Brock, and Steve wanted to help him learn to love himself for being queer. Steve never had any struggle; he always had known he liked guys, and when he told his mom when he was young, she replied “Cool! I like guys too. Wanna make cookies?” There weren’t years of verbal abuse, wrapped up in toxic masculinity, and tied with a camo bow.

Steve knew Brock didn’t really mean the things he said when they fought. That he was just self-conscious about being seen out in public when he still had so many hang-ups about his sexuality. Fights over what was and wasn’t considered appropriate, at a restaurant, at the movies, became common. Steve learned to avoid anything that might be considered “girly” when they were out, from wearing anything that might be considered feminine to ordering pink drinks at the bar. And honestly, Steve didn’t see the need in ordering fruity drinks when he liked beer just as well. Steve was never one for PDAs, so Brock not kissing him or hugging him in public was never a problem.

They stayed wrapped their bubble for about a year and Steve was deeply in love. Sure, he had never been to Brock’s place, but he understood. Brock was deep in the closet and he couldn’t have the neighbors gossiping about him. Steve was working up the courage to admit his love for their anniversary, but Brock didn’t show up for their date that night.

“Sorry, babe,” Brock explained over the phone, as Steve tried not to cry. “I know it’s really shitty timing, I got caught up at work and by the time I knew what time it was, I thought you would be asleep. Didn’t want you to be tired at your job. Can’t cut in straight lines if you’re tired, right?”

Steve shook it off as an overreaction and moved on. Because he _knew_ Brock must love him. He’d held Steve so tenderly, kissed him and fucked him with so much passion, so much love. Brock had never said the words, but Steve was willing to give him the space to open himself up and be vulnerable in a way no one else would.

Steve’s schedule got more hectic. He got bumped up to the floor after only two years and he was trying to build up his clientele; a few meals got missed, his output of energy greatly exceed his input of calories, and he lost a few pounds, which, on his already thin frame, was very noticeable.

“Jesus, babe. Eat something. I know work is crazy but it’s getting to the point where I feel like I’m fucking a skeleton.” And Brock laughed. And Steve covered his body and felt self-conscious for the first time with Brock. 

But it was all fine because Steve started to get deliveries of fancy chocolates, random snacks, cannolis, at work. He would just smile at his co-workers and and agree, “Yeah, I know. I’m so lucky. I’ve got a great guy.”

Then Steve met Sharon and Peggy and suddenly he had best friends. He wanted to introduce Brock to them. He understood that he couldn’t meet Brock’s family and friends, once again; he was still in the closet, had an incredibly homophobic father, worked in a very competitive industry and any sign of “otherness” meant fewer chances of a promotion. But Steve's found family would welcome him and give him the acceptance Steve knew he must yearn for.

\-----

But on the night Peggy and Sharon had made plans to go out with Steve and Brock, Steve got a call.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I can’t come out and meet your friends, I’ve got a meeting that’s going to run late. Buy a bottle of wine on me as an apology—I’ve already called the restaurant. I’m sorry, babe, I was really looking forward to tonight.”

Then the skipped dates started increasing. Steve knew Brock was busy at work, that he was angling for a move up the giant corporate ladder. He knew any time he got with Brock, he should cherish. Brock was _busy_ and _important_ , something he didn’t really understand being a just “hairdresser”.

After about a year and a half, Steve’s dream came true and he was finally making enough money to afford his own place. Yeah, it was a studio, in a not great part of town, but it was _his_. It only had _his_ furniture, it only had _his_ food in the fridge, he could decorate every surface with things _he_ loved. His roommates weren’t bad, but they were still roommates—and Steve was in his in his mid-20s, 27 to be exact, and he was old enough to have his own space.

He texted Brock asking if he wanted to come stay the night, so they could “break-in” in the space and he wouldn’t have to be alone his first night. He didn’t hear anything back right away but it was a Wednesday and during work hours so he understood he just needed to be patient.

A few hours later, after he had unpacked most of his comics and lovingly organized them, he heard his phone buzz. And not a text buzz, a phone call. The screen said “Bae” and Steve grinned.

“Hey! I’m glad you got my message! I’m looking forward to what we can do now that we don’t have to be as quiet!” he rambled excitedly.

“Brock won’t be coming over,” a strange female voice said.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” Steve almost laughed. _This has to be a joke—Brock must be pranking me_ , he thought.

“This is Brock’s fiancée, Amy. He won’t be visiting you any more.”

Steve felt dizzy. He abruptly sat down on his bed. He started to feel cold. He started to shiver. It was the middle of the summer, in an unairconditioned apartment, and he felt like he was naked in the snow. He pulled his legs in, wrapped his free arm around them, trying to steady himself, trying to keep any warmth.

“Who—what? Fiancée?” Steve shook his head. _This couldn’t be real_ he thought. Someone was making a terrible mistake. “Can I please talk to Brock?”

“No.” She hung up the phone. Steve dropped his.

Steve started to hyperventilate. Tears streamed down his face. He rocked back and forth, hugging himself. _How could he have been so stupid, so gulible, to believe Brock cared for him, loved him even. Stupid, skinny Steve, so oblivious to have missed something so large._ He felt like he didn’t weigh anything. He felt like a house was on his chest. He found his phone and sent off a “please, help” text to Sharon and Peggy. They came over and Steve told them what happened. They stayed that night, the three of them crammed into Steve’s full-sized bed. 

\-----

Steve had been afraid that he wouldn’t be able to sleep because he was living alone for the first time ever. But instead, he couldn’t sleep—he had a thousand memories running through his head: sweet, seemingly loving memories, suddenly turned sinister with the revelation that he was the side piece. It made his eyes burn from anger and sadness. His body felt empty, but his mind was full. Occasionally he wouldn’t cry as softly as he hoped, and either Peggy or Sharon would roll over and wrap their arms around him and whisper soothing words to him. He would weep in their arms, mourning the loss of a love he thought he had had.

The next week went mostly the same way, but with Sharon and Peggy trading off who spent the night with Steve. He was averaging about three hours of sleep each night and it was so bad by the end of week the owner of the salon made him reschedule his Saturday, Sunday, and Tuesday clients because he couldn’t hold his shears steady.

So now, he was alone for three days, with his friends only accessible through text. Peggy had the weekend off but had plans on Sunday with her family. He and Sharon had the same schedule, off on Mondays and Wednesdays, but she had class all day Monday. He knew Sharon _had_ to be at work, because she was still really new at the salon and he knew how hectic the day was when an assistant called out, and she couldn’t skip class. Peggy had some high-powered job (they always joked that she was a spy) so she needed to go into work during the week. It was hard but he endured.

\-----

Steve eventually took their advice and started going to therapy during the second week. He got exercises for clearing his mind so he could try to sleep at night. It worked for about an hour each night, which was more peace than he had had since the phone call. He was now up to a few stretches of sleep each night and was eating protein bars to keep his energy up. Everything tasted like ash, so he and Sharon had compromised on the bars. They were chock full of calories and protein because he couldn't let low blood sugar make him faint at work.

Sharon and Peggy stopped staying every night; he understood that his tossing and turning was taking a toll on their own sleep and didn’t blame them for needing rest. They promised to answer any call from Steve, no matter the time, but he felt too guilty to wake them up so he would just cry alone. Each night started the same: Steve vowing to be strong but ultimately losing the fight to the memories. By morning, his pillow would inevitably be soaked with tears.

\-----

Week three brought a new and not so exciting event.

 **[7185554283]** What did Brock see in you?

 **[7185554283]** I don’t understand why he was with you.

 **[me]** Amy?

 **[7185554283]** Yes

**[me]** I don’t want to talk to you

 **[7185554283]** We’ve been together a year

Steve shut his eyes and gasped. Suddenly the missed dates, the missed texts and calls started to make sense. He and Brock had been together a year and a half, so the majority of their “relationship” was while he was planning a life with someone else. His eyes filled with tears, blurring his vision. He _hated_ that he was starting to understand this twisted timeline.

 **[7185554283]** We’ve been together a year and have been engaged for a month. I found out about you a week before he proposed and told him he had to break it off.

 **[7185554283]** What makes you so fucking special? Is your ass really that good?

Steve’s screen was blurry from the tears in his eyes.

 **[me]** I didn’t know you existed until you called. Please leave me alone

He texted Brock begging him to make it stop. 

**[me]** I don't know what to do with all of this. I thought you loved me

 **[Brock]** Sorry, it was just a bit of fun for me before I settled down.

The texting stopped. Steve called out the next day and stayed in bed.

A week later brought another text.

 **[7185554283]** Seriously, what can you give Brock that I can’t? I mean dick aside.

 **[me]** Leave me alone

 **[7185554283]** I just don’t understand why he would keep fucking you while he was in love with me.

Steve felt something in him irrevocably change. He stood up tall, squaring his shoulders. How _dare_ she keep harassing him. He had done nothing wrong. He was the injured party and now, what—he was supposed to comfort _her_? Amy won the “prize” such as it was. Steve's consolation prize was a broken heart. She and Brock could, kindly, fuck off.

 **[me]** If you keep texting me, I will consider it harrassment and inform the police.

Things were quiet after that. Steve started to remember how to sleep without crying. He felt like he could breathe again. He still cried at night, when he was alone, but he was putting on a brave show at work.

\-----

 **[7185554283]** He told me he liked you but could never see a long term relationship with you because he couldn’t share his life with you. He couldn’t introduce you to his family, to his friends. He couldn’t have a family with you.

The moment he got his new phone number felt precious—like the first steps of freedom. He started to shake off the shackles of the past, the fear of another vicious text from Amy, or another devastating reminder from Brcock that Steve had meant very little to the other man. The memories of rejection and betrayal started to fade.

Another month passed and he _didn't_ cry more days than he did. He still felt hollow at night, but he had a great therapist and two new best friends. He could start thinking about life without Brock.

\-----

“Steve?” one of the receptionists at the salon came up to him. “There’s somebody on the phone for you? Should I take a message?”

Steve frowned. Sharon was off work so he assumed she had forgotten something, and as they had planned on dinner together with a few friends, he thought she was going to ask him to bring it for her.

“Steve. This is Amy—”

Steve’s hearing made it sound like she was calling from a cave, he heard a whooshing, his senses going haywire from the shock.

“I was just there. I wanted to see what you looked like. I _really_ don’t understand what Brock saw in you.”

Steve hung up and his knees gave out. He could vaguely hear Cassie, the receptionist, asking if he was OK, if he needed to go to the hospital. He felt his head shake no. He saw Natasha, thankfully she had been hired by that point, walk away from her client. She helped him up and to the break room.

“Steve, I’ve got some holes in my schedule. I’ll take your clients. You need to go home.”

He texted Sharon and Peggy to fill them in on the conversation. Peggy said she was leaving work early and would help Steve fill out an incident report with the police. Cassie found the receipt from Amy Rumlow and the officer took notes and let Steve know that if the harassment continued and there were threats of violence he might have a case for a restraining order but as things stood, it was just an annoyance.

\-----

Steve took a leave of absence, finally dipping into the life insurance money from when his mother passed. A month passed, then two and he went back to work. He moved in with Sharon when his lease ended. Peggy moved to Boston for her job. Natasha bought the Red Room and Steve and Sharon went with her. He had a few casual flings. He stopped thinking about Brock, about the feeling of being good enough to fuck but not to date. He fell out of love. He slept, ate, gained weight, was healthy. He went to parties. He started to feel content with his life. He was still gun-shy with relationships, preferring to have flings rather than relationships, prefering to keep things on his terms.

Until one night he met Bucky Barnes in a bar and he had started to fall in love with him, only to learn that once again, he was good enough to fuck, but not good enough to meet the family. Steve had to protect himself. It was hard, but he knew the right thing was to end things so he wouldn’t be a shameful secret once again. 

Steve talked to Sharon. They called Peggy. The women had been wonderful and caring and kind. Steve still cried. Finally Sharon fell asleep and Steve walked back to his room. He scrolled through his music. He knew it wasn’t healthy but he listened to “No Choir” from _High as Hope_. He was strong but then Florence sang:

> _But I must confess_  
>  _I did it all for myself_  
>  _I gathered you here to to hide from some vast unnamable fear_  
>  _But the loneliness never left_  
>  _I always took it with me_  
>  _But I can put it down in the pleasure of your company_  
>  _And there will be no grand choirs to sing_  
>  _No ballad will be written_  
>  _It will be entirely forgotten_  
>  _And if tomorrow it’s all over_  
>  _At least we had it for a moment_  
> 

And Steve shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note:
> 
>  **Spoilers below**  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
>  This goes into Steve's history with Brock: flirting to dating, dating to loving, loving to realizing Steve was just the bit of fun on the side.
> 
> There is a smidge of emotional abuse and body-shaming towards Steve from Brock. Nothing worse than what has been said in previous chapters. 
> 
> Steve finds out Brock is engaged to an unseen woman named Amy and she starts harassing him via text messages until he changes his number. She visits the salon, then calls to taunt him about it. He calls the police and files an incident report.
> 
> This was a cathartic chapter for me to write and it's definitely not happy and fluffy to read, so please don't force yourself to read it if you're in a bad place.
> 
> If you're unsure about reading this, skip it. The important parts are written out above and you can message me on Tumblr about any additional questions. 
> 
> Things will start to get better for our boys, soon!
> 
> We are [Alby_mangroves](https://artgroves.tumblr.com) and [Pineau_noir](https://pineau-noir.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


	8. The hard things are the ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky start to come to terms with what happened. Their friends are very supportive.

Bucky took the next day off. In fact, Bobbi, Sam, and Peter also took the day off. Wade wanted to, but he had a demanding client and couldn’t miss a day. He made everybody little origami animals since he couldn't be there, for emotional support. Bucky’s was a little bear, Bobbi’s was a bird, Peter’s was a spider, and Sam’s was also a bird. Sam asked why he and Bobbi had the same animal and Wade shrugged and said, “I dunno, I just like making birds.”

Bucky kept insisting that he was fine; he and Steve had only been dating a few months; he would be fine with the day to himself. But he knew it would be easier with his friends. He and Sam and Bobbi all scrunched up on the couch together and they let Peter pick a science documentary. Bucky relaxed and dozed off.

He woke up warm and happy and snuggly on the couch until he remembered what happened, realized he was snuggling with Bobbi and Sam. He kept his eyes closed, like if he didn’t acknowledge that Steve wasn’t on the couch, they would still be together and he wouldn’t feel so abandoned. His thoughts inevitably went to their “greatest hits”: meeting at the bar, getting drunk and silly at the Chinese restaurant, Comic Con. Then his mind took him on a tour of the small, sweet moments: waking up tangled with Steve, holding hands at their lunch dates, hugs that started as hugs but devolved into just holding each other and feeling Steve breathe, giggling at _Brooklyn 99_ while they cuddled, letting Steve watch him build a Lego set and claim to _not_ be bored. He finally opened his eyes, giving in to reality and the fact that Steve had decided he didn’t want to be in a relationship with Bucky.

“I just—I don’t _understand_ why he broke things off. I thought things were going great,” he mumbled into Bobbi’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, sweetie. But maybe give him a little room. You texted him back. Give him some time to respond.”

Sam rubbed his feet for a minute. “Yeah, don’t crowd him. Give him space and then try and talk about it. “

“Don’t wanna wait,” he complained. “Wanna know what I did so I can fix it. This sucks. I know we’re still new, but I really like him.”

“I know you know this, but forcing a confrontation with him right now is the worst thing you can do,” Sam said gently. 

“I know. Just sucks,” Bucky snuffed. “I really like him.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “Like, I _really_ like him and now he’s gone? And I just have to move on? And he was so much fun and things were great and what did I do?” he said, tears starting to fall. “I just—I don’t know what to do.”

Bucky got squished into a hug from Bobbi and Sam. Well, Bobbi gave him an actual hug and Sam kind of cuddle-hugged his legs, but he still felt better with the contact.

Peter said, “Bucky, I don’t think it’s anything you did. Didn’t you say that Steve said he had some baggage? It’s probably related to that. Which Is the worst, but it’s nothing you could have foreseen. I’m going to chime in with Bobbi and Sam. Give him a little bit of time. Did—did you know that Wade and I broke up early into our relationship?”

Bucky shook his head, scrubbing his hands over his face. ”I didn’t. You seem so perfect together.”

“Yeah, I know,” Peter replied. “But early on in our relationship, Wade started to feel really self-conscious about his scars. I mean, I knew he had them when we met, they never really bothered me. It’s just part of him, ya know? And anyway, it has always taken an emotional attachment for me to get to the point of wanting anyone sexually. So his scars were a non-issue for me because I was halfway in love with him by the time we started getting physical. 

“Let me just over-share for a few minutes because I promise this is all relevant. The first time we saw each other naked, Wade looked at me, looked down at himself and left. Just—just walked out the door. Not even a ‘goodbye’. I texted him for about an hour before he replied and it was some bullshit about me being able to do better than him.

“So I called him and yelled at him for about half an hour while he made increasingly more pitiful sounds. I don’t really remember most of what I said, but I do know that I told him that I _wasn’t_ someone he had dated who had rejected him because of his scars and I would appreciate it if he could keep that in mind.

“Then I hung up on him and burst into tears. About two days later he came back, apologetic, and we made up, and it clearly worked. But my point to all of this is, if Steve’s got baggage that’s making him insecure, that’s fine. That’s a problem _he_ has, not anything you did. But if you can work things out, then that’s great. He needs to talk to you about what’s going on instead of bottling up his emotions and doing something drastic. Don’t write this off if you think he’s worth fighting for. But don’t take shit left over from past jerks. You’re a good guy, Bucky. I know Steve sees it. And none of us will let him or anyone else you care about walk all over you.”

Bucky just gaped at Peter. “I had no idea,” he said. “I thought you and Wade met and were basically joined at the hip from day one.”

“Yeah, dude, good for you,” Sam chimed in.

“I actually knew all that,” Bobbi revealed, looking a little smug. ”Peter and I got drunk on Chardonnay one night and talked about the dumbest things we had done and the dumbest thing someone had done to us. This was his story and mine was clearly the whole Lance thing. “

They all nodded. 

“Yeah, Lance is hot but dumb,” Peter said. “Who needs to be saved from a sex dungeon? Nobody buys the ‘undercover agent saving the Queen’ excuse. But honestly, Bucky, give Steve a little bit of time. I know he’ll see reason. And, really, if he doesn't, then you don't need him in your life. I know you really like him, but he can’t take his insecurities out on you.”

Bucky got up and enveloped Peter into a big hug. “Thanks, guy. You’re a great dude and an amazing roomie,” he mumbled into Peter’s hair.

\-----

Steve woke up beside Sharon. He had slept most of the night, but he still felt tired. He was glad it was a Tuesday and neither he nor Sharon had to fake being awake and happy. Sharon was so much better at putting on a good face when she wasn’t feeling well. Steve wore his insecurities and anger on his face, so hiding his heartbreak was going to be hard. An extra day to process was a good thing. He thought about the afternoon before and once again felt a pain in his chest when he remembered Bucky denying he was seeing anyone. He started sniffling and Sharon started to wake up a little.

“Ugh, this sucks. I thought he was different. I thought he really liked me,” he said, fighting back tears.

Sharon fully woke-up and rolled over. “Honey, I think he _is_ different. I think you need to talk to him. I really like Bucky. I feel like I got a good read on him the times we’ve all hung out. I think you need to talk to him.” At Steve’s look, she added, “Not today”. 

“Sharon, I was _there_! His sister asked him point blank if he was seeing someone and he said no. Once again, I’m in a relationship where I don't get to meet the family and do all the things regular people do in a real relationship. Then he lied? I didn't really peg him as a liar but he texted me saying he told his sister about me? I was literally in the room when he said he wasn't dating anyone.

“And you and Peggy said—” he trailed off. “You _said_!” Steve started to sniffle and Sharon rolled over to grab a Kleenex.

“Don’t snot all over my bed,” she said, not unkindly. “And Steve, I remember what we said. I remember everything about that whole thing. And, I dunno, this just feels different. I didn't peg him as a liar either. I feel like there must be more to what happened. Because I mean, you _met_ his friends, you stayed at _his_ apartment. I don’t know why he would tell his sister he wasn’t seeing anybody, but at the very least I feel like you should ask him about it. Don’t force a confrontation for the purpose of a fight, but definitely ask him why he said that. And if it’s because he’s an asshole, I’ll be the first to help you egg his building.”

Steve, snorted, face still a little damp from tears. “I don’t think we need to go that far.” He let out a big sigh. “OK, I’ll take your advice and ask him about it. But—” he started in a small voice “—not today?” 

“Yeah, not today,” Sharon said. “Let’s go have a big breakfast of whatever carby-sugary goodness you want.”

Steve felt the first hint of a smile cross his face. He knew how Sharon mostly avoided junk food and was thankful she was always willing to indulge his sweet tooth in moments of crisis. Steve had suspicions that she kept chocolate chocolate chip muffin mix hidden for emergencies, and he was right. They got up and mixed the batter and relaxed on the couch, Steve’s head on her shoulder, while they waited for the muffins to bake.

“Have I told you recently that you’re amazing?” he asked while she gently ran her fingers through his hair. “I know I’m not the easiest person to be friends with and I know I can be a terror to live with.”

“Sweetie, neither of those things are true. You're just a person. Just like me. Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not perfect either.”

Steve snorted again. Sharon gave him a little half hug. “Those muffins smell amazing. Thanks for giving me an excuse to bake them.”

“If you listened to me, we could eat chocolate for breakfast every day.”

“Steve, no. I love you, but even _I_ don’t love you that much. What do you feel like doing with the rest of the day?”

Steve shrugged. Originally he was going to go out and run some errands and text Bucky. But none of his errands were urgent and he didn’t feel like putting on real clothes; pajamas were so much more comfortable than skinny jeans. “Stay here and pig out on junk food with you while we watch bad daytime TV?”

Sharon nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’ll pick the first show?”

\-----

On Wednesday, Bucky went on with his regular schedule and had a mostly productive work day. He got several check-in texts from his friends. Each one made him smile and realize how lucky he was to have them in his life. Wade made a big dinner and Bucky went to sleep sad, but not devastated. 

Bucky woke up morose on Thursday and slogged through the morning. He decided his best course of action for his lunch break was to climb back in bed for the hour. It wasn’t like he really had an appetite. He pulled out his “for emergencies only” stuffed teddy bear and focused on his breathing so he didn’t have to think. He was in that floaty feeling between asleep and awake when his phone buzzed. He assumed it was one of his friends, so he rolled over and started his deep breathing again. Then he heard another buzz. And another. And another. Angry now that he was fully awake, he grabbed his phone.

 **[Sharon]** What did you do?

 **[Sharon]** Why did you tell your sister that you weren’t seeing anybody?

 **[Sharon]** Steve is really upset. You know he’s gone through this shit before with Brock.

 **[Sharon]** I really didn’t think you were a dick.

Bucky gasped. Steve must have heard his conversation with Becca the day Steve called things off. He felt terrible. He _knew_ Steve was insecure about relationships—and now Bucky had unintentionally opened what he assumed was a big scar and basically poured a gallon of lemon juice on it. He snuffled a little into his pillow.

 **[me]** I didn’t tell her that! I mean I did, but then less than a minute later I told her about Steve! She just pries and I didn’t want her to go crazy. But I then I did tell her about him!

 **[me]** I’m guess Steve heard that and that’s why he broke up with me?

 **[me]** Can you tell him I’m sorry and I want to explain the whole thing and I’m not like that douche he dated and I really care about him

Bucky felt tears well up in his eyes. He could admit to himself that he was starting to fall in love with Steve. And he felt dirty knowing he had treated Steve like his abusive ex. He wiped his eyes as he thought about how Steve must have felt to once again be hidden from the family like a shameful secret. He hit the call button by Sharon’s name.

“What.” She was unamused.

Bucky cleared his throat. He did not need to transfer his guilt onto someone else. “What can I do to make this right?” he croaked out. “I don’t even care if we don’t get back together. But I don’t want Steve to think I’m ashamed of dating him. I don’t want him to ever feel like that—I—fuck. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him and I don’t want him to be hurt because of me. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Just don’t let him feel like this because of me.”

He heard Sharon hum over the phone. “I don’t know right now. I’ll talk to him and see what you can do. I’m not guaranteeing that I’ll get you back together and you’ll have a fairy-tale ending. But I’m hoping you’re honest when you say this was a misunderstanding. So I’ll help you. For the moment. Because I love Steve too, and I don’t want him to be so sad. I’ll text you, but don’t text him. It‘ll only make things worse,” she declared and hung up.

\-----

Steve got through the week on autopilot. He grunted answers at his friends and co-workers but managed to fake not being sad with most of his clients. Thor came back for a trim and noticed Steve was off and they had a little cry together in the breakroom. Clint, who was apparently officially dating Natasha now, also knew something was wrong, but most of his regular clients were unaware that his heart was broken.

His friends were strategic about talking to him. Steve assumed Sharon had filled them in on what had happened because he didn’t get any questions about Bucky; instead he got comments like “You doing OK there, buddy?” from Tony and “Aw, Steve, let’s go out and drink until we can’t remember our names; Kate will take care of us” from America.

Natasha had a real, honest-to-god sit-down meeting with him.

“Look, Rogers. I know you’re sad. And I appreciate everything you’re doing to not let it affect your work. But know that if you need a week off, we can reschedule your clients. I want you to take care of yourself now, so things don’t get really bad and you spiral again. I care about you too much to let you get that low again. 

“I don’t know the whole story about what happened, and, honestly, it’s not my business. Right now, I’m not talking to you as your boss, I’m talking to you as your friend. I didn’t spend a lot of time with Bucky, but he never seemed like Brock. I didn't got the feeling that he was ashamed of you or your job. I don’t know what you want to do, but I will support you if you want a clean break. I will also support you if you want to give him another chance at some point; you both really seemed to complement each other. I’m not going to pressure you one way or the other. You know best what you need to do.

“Just know I’m here for you.”

She reached to hug him and Steve broke down in tears. “I don’t know what to do. I definitely don’t want to decide anything today. I thought a clean break was the best thing, but now I don’t know. And I’m miserable. I hate feeling like this. What I overheard just seems so out of character, but I _heard_ it. It’s not like somebody was gossiping and it’s not to be trusted.” They hugged for a moment more before Natasha had to go back to the floor to work.

Steve knew Natasha was right. He knew that there had to be some sort of explanation for what he had overheard. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to let himself be vulnerable again with Bucky. He had already shown his softness and, miscommunication or not, he had been rejected. He decided to let future Steve worry about what to do. For the moment, he needed to stop crying at work and maybe grab some concealer from the make-up display so he could meet with his next client. He was thankful that America hadn’t been booking clients in his processing time. It was so much easier to focus on one person at a time and not have to fit in a cut between applying color and rinsing.

  


Sometimes, of course, it meant that he was alone and started thinking about how broken he must be to have attracted men who were such assholes. Mostly it meant that he could hang out with America at the desk, or help Kate with laundry and sweeping, or talk to Natasha about the products that sold well and how to bump up the sales on their slow movers. He really enjoyed the freedom to focus on one client at a time and spend time with his friends. He knew he needed to come up with an end time for this, because he couldn’t afford to take Tuesdays off and _not_ book appointments during process times. But for the moment, he was going to take advantage of his slower pace. 

He was looking over his schedule for the next week during one such break and noticed something weird. He went to the desk to ask America about it.

“Yeah, this whole family found you online apparently and they wanted to get everything done by you. So we booked her for a partial bleach out and vivid fashion colors, her husband for a cut while she processes, a cut for her daughter during the second process and then her cut. You had a big chunk of time Wednesday so I could get them all in. We may have to stay a little late but I thought it was too good to say no.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, sure, that sounds good. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“No problem. You’re my friend, Steve. I’m happy to help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friday we post the last two chapters and the boys _finally_ get their happy ending!
> 
> We are [Alby_mangroves](https://artgroves.tumblr.com) and [Pineau_noir](https://pineau-noir.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


	9. That shatter into a million pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve meets his new clients, talks are had, a decision is made.

Sharon’s plan _had_ to work. She and Bucky had worked it out late one night when Steve was otherwise occupied. She had stressed to him that she wasn't planning this big reveal to get them back together, but instead she was willing to believe Bucky just wanted to show Steve that he wasn't ashamed of Steve _or_ his job.

Bucky was almost hyperventilating. Becca, James, and Violet had all taken the train in from Connecticut and were visiting at his apartment while Bucky paced in the living room.

“It's going to be fine, Bucky,” Becca said and came to hug Bucky. “Stop pacing. Things are going to be OK. Even if you and Steve don’t get back together, at least you'll know he knows that you weren’t hiding him from us. And isn’t that the whole point of this? To make amends with Steve?”

He snuffed into her shoulder. Becca was both a minute older and, more irritatingly, half an inch taller than Bucky’s 5’10”. _But_ Bucky could forgive her all the teasing about him truly being the “little brother” because she gave the best hugs. Beyond that, she and Bucky were a study in contrasts. Where Bucky had gotten his mother’s light blue eyes, Becca’s were soft brown. Bucky had the family's genetic history of dark hair while Becca inherited some recessive trait and was strawberry blonde. James (and didn't Bucky give Becca a hard time when she first came home with a “James”) walked up to them and joined the hug. He was 6’4.” Being hugged by his sister and brother-in-law made Bucky feel small and dainty. It wasn’t something that he usually felt, so he enjoyed the moment.

“Feel better?” James asked in his deep voice.

Bucky snuggled into them both a little more. “Another minute?”

“Sure,” Becca responded.They cuddled for a few moments longer, then broke apart.

Violet started to wake up from her nap in the pack-n-play. “Looks like the gremlin is awake. Is it time for food?” Bucky asked, a little hopeful.

Lunch meant the appointments were only an hour away. Bucky knew they were going to take forever; Becca’s was estimated at about four hours with all the processing time. While Violet was booked for a cut later in the day, she was going to stay at Bucky’s apartment the whole time because a toddler _could not_ last that long. Bucky was extra excited about babysitting duty. Visits were, unfortunately, few and far between, despite the fact that he and Becca’s family only lived a short train ride away.

“Yeah, do you have food us for or do we need to go somewhere?” Becca asked.

“Um, I mean, we have breakfast stuff?” Bucky responded, a little sheepishly.

“Sounds great! Violet loves eggs and toast,” James chimed in.

They prepared and ate lunch and Bucky became more and more anxious. He started to bounce his leg and only stopped at Becca’s pointed look.

“OK, _Mom_ ,” he said, but quit with the nervous tic.

“Do we need to get Sam or Bobbi over here? Are you going to be OK?” James asked, concen bleeding into his voice.

“No, no, I’ll be OK once you leave. It’s just the fucking anticipation—whoops—sorry, Violet; it’s the waiting that makes me so anxious. Sharon helped me with this and she has Steve’s best interests at heart, so I feel like this is a good gesture, but I just want it to be done! I want to know if Steve either forgives me or at least feels better. I hate waiting and especially when it’s waiting to see if my apology is accepted!” Bucky was shaking a little by the end out his outburst. “Sorry, I’ve had not enough sleep and too much coffee and I'm just overwhelmed. I don’t mean to freak out on you!”

“Bucky. Brother of mine. It’s going to be fine. Eat some more toast, it’ll help with the excess caffeine. Everyone in this apartment loves you and I have complete faith that you will make Steve feel better. Even _if_ he doesn't want to start dating again, I know he’ll realize you meant him no harm. And you’ll be able to properly move on knowing that.” Becca looked down at her phone and started to clean up. “I need to leave in a few minutes so I get there in time.”

She put everything in the sink and gave James and Violet a kiss, then turned to Bucky. “I know how stressful everything has been lately. But you’re doing everything you can. You’re a good guy and I’m not just saying that because you’re my brother. You’ve got a kind heart. I’m lucky to be your sister.

“Now, before I start crying from all this talking about our feelings—“

Bucky snorted and quietly repeated, “Feeeeelings. Bleh—”

“But so, no more feelings, right? Man up and go win your best guy back.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at that. Becca was a _gender studies_ professor at UConn. She was ridiculous. She gave him a quick hug and left.

\-----

The time between when Becca left and when James needed to leave flew by.

“You’ll be OK getting her to the salon?” James asked again. “I know you’re great with her, but toddlers on public transportation can be difficult.”

“No, it’s fine. Peter and Wade will be home soon and they said they would help. She’ll have three of us so we should be able to get there in one piece.”

James wrapped Bucky into a hug. “OK, I’ll see you in a couple of hours. I know I'm more taciturn than Becca, but what she said is absolutely correct. You’re a good guy and I’m fortunate to call you family.”

“Thanks.” Bucky squeezed him back. “I’m glad Becca found you.”

Then it was just Bucky and Violet. He crouched down so that they were more at an even level.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Thanks for being such a calm kid. I’m a ball of nervous energy at this point, so I really appreciate you just, kind of, drooling and babbling at me.” She reached up in the universal sign for “pick me up and cuddle me” and he was happy to oblige.

“You’re so big, little girl. Are you going to be stupid tall like your mommy and daddy and make fun of poor Uncle Bucky? I’m not short, I’m perfectly average in height. They’re just freaks,” Bucky recited, in a frequently repeated argument.

Violet only babbled at him and grabbed his nose. “You'll always be nice to me, won't you,” he whispered and cuddled her closer. “Forget those mean parents of yours. I'll buy you your first beer and we can smoke pot together. When it's all legal, of course. I'm not dumb enough to cross Becca on letting you do illegal things.

“But I'll definitely be the ‘cool uncle’ and we can party. Or, I mean, stay home because I'll be too old to go clubbing. Probably.”

Violet smiled her gummy smile (she only had six teeth!) and Bucky felt peaceful for the first time that day. Talking nonsense to his niece was one of his favorite things. Bucky talked and cuddled her until Wade and Peter were both home and it was time to head to the salon for the final part of the plan.

\-----

Steve had a wonderful time with his new client, Rebecca. He felt a brief pang in his heart thinking about Bucky's Becca, but quickly focused on his new client. She was _so tall_! And she was so complimentary about Steve's work. He blushed and stammered a little at her praise. He was really excited to work with her because she had _virgin hair_. It was so thrilling to be the person trusted with coloring it for the first time.

Plus she had such a fun idea. She was going to keep her natural blonde but said she had been inspired by Steve's hair and wanted pink and purple highlights. He was flattered and enthusiastic about it because he loved his hair.

They started talking about their lives and Rebecca mentioned she lived north of the city.

“So you don't live here?”

She shook her head. “We drove a little and took the Metro North into the city,” she explained. “But my younger brother lives in Brooklyn so we left the baby with him. It's so nice to have some time just for me, ya know?”

Steve smiled and agreed but had to take a deep breath at the sudden tears that pricked his eyes. He missed his mom, missed Bucky, he wanted to _belong_ ; he wanted _family_. Intellectually, he knew Sharon and Peggy were his chosen family, but he wanted someone to fall asleep next to at night, someone to get into stupid arguments over chores, someone who would give him a soft place to land on hard days.

He got the foils in for Rebecca's first process and America came over to let Steve know his next client—James, Rebecca's husband—was there. He went over to introduce himself. He was bowled over at how tall _James_ was; there had to have been a foot’s difference between him and Steve. He took in James’ piercing blue eyes and blond hair and thought he and Rebecca must make a striking couple with their height and Nordic good looks.

James and Rebecca seemed to prove the old adage “opposites attract” true. Where Rebecca was outgoing, James was very quiet. She had no problem talking and joking with everyone in the salon and James focused only on Steve. They were both exceedingly kind and seemed to really love each other. Steve got a little schmoopy feeling when James’ haircut was finished and Rebecca gave him a once over, then whispered something in James’ ear that made him kiss her and blush. Though Steve’s love life was not working out for him at the moment, seeing the obvious love between the Proctors warmed his heart.

He was finishing painting the colors on the ends of Rebecca’s hair when she suddenly lit up. “Here’s my little one!” She pointed to the door where there was an absolutely adorable toddler in a bright green coat, being held by none other than Bucky Barnes. Bucky hoisted the little girl onto one hip and waved.

Steve felt rooted to the spot. He quit breathing for one solitary moment. His vision narrowed to the toddler and the man holding her. He felt like crying. He felt like laughing. He didn’t know what he felt. He took a shaky breath and looked at Rebecca in bewilderment. There was no cosmic coincidence big enough to explain this: it must have been _planned_.  
James went to go get the toddler from Bucky and Rebecca turned to Steve with a solemn look on her face. “Steve, I’m so sorry to deceive you like this, but I’m Becca Barnes-Proctor—that’s Bucky’s niece, Violet. Bucky wanted you to meet us. He in no way has to stay. In fact, if you need someone to finish my hair, Sharon said she would wash out the color and dry it. She said Tony had enough time to cut Violet’s hair.

“You don’t have to interact with us at all. But now you’ve met us and we’ve met you, we can leave you alone if you want. You have all the power in this situation now. Let me know what you want to do because no one wants to make you uncomfortable after the ‘official’ introductions.”

Steve was astonished. From what Becca was saying, Sharon had known what was going on with the appointments. He didn’t know if he was angry with everyone involved or touched by their planning to get everybody to the salon. He remembered Bucky saying his sister’s family lived out of state, so it wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment thing; they must have all been coordinating schedules for a week. He took a deep breath.

“No, it’s fine. I can finish and I’ll take Violet. Bucky can—” he trailed off. He _really_ wanted Bucky to stay. But he also didn’t know if he could get through the rest of the appointments with him so close. “Bucky can stay,” he said as he straightened his shoulders. “I can’t guarantee that I’ll want to talk to him, but I’m not going to kick him out of the salon.

“Can you give me a minute to talk to my scheming roommate?”

Becca smiled a little. “Sure. Take all the time you need.”

Steve stalked off to the break room where Natasha and Sharon were drinking some tea. “Tell me you weren’t in on this,” he said to Natasha.

She gave him an innocent look and batted her eyelashes. “Steve, whatever do you mean?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You and I are having _words_ tonight,” he said, as he pointed at Sharon.

Sharon nodded. “I assumed we would. I’ll own up to this idea. Bucky didn’t want to come. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. We couldn’t figure out a way to introduce you to the family without it being super creepy. He was really worried about being gross and stalkery but I assured him we’d make it more rom-com than that. Be as mad at me as you want; I’ll take your anger. We’ll make up after a bit because we love each other too much to throw away this friendship for something stupid.”

“I miss him,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize how much until I saw him again.” He felt tears well in his eyes.

Sharon got up and went to hug Steve. He kept his arms limp by his sides. “He missed you too, sweetie. I’m pretty sure he’s in love with you. His only goal behind this stunt was to show you he wasn’t embarrassed by you or your job. That’s why I helped. If he was only trying to get back together, I would have told him to fuck off. But he said he didn’t want you to feel like he was ashamed of you or that he kept you hidden.” Steve sniffed, relented, and hugged her back.

“Stay here, I’ll go wash Becca. Take like ten minutes. And if you want them all to leave, Tony and I will finish everything. I know this was a little underhanded, but no one thought you would actually be willing to even be in the same room with him.” She left and Steve was alone with Natasha.

“Sit, Steve.” He did. They stared at each other for a few minutes.

Natasha let out a sigh.“Did you know I’ve been married?”

Steve shook his head. She laughed, but it was cold and brittle. “Yeah, I had just turned 18. He was the boy next door. Well, kind of next door. He and his brother traveled a lot during the year, but in their off season he was there. I loved him _so_ much. He was handsome, funny, clumsy, kind, generous.

“I had no idea what he saw in me but I wasn’t willing to look too closely at his intentions. We were so happy. Then he had to start traveling again for work. I was convinced that he was going to find some beautiful, blonde, corn-fed, American girl and leave me for her. I was so in my head that I decided he didn’t want sharp, bitter me, and I left him. He was on the road and I had divorce papers drawn up and left them on the kitchen table for when he got back.”

Steve sat by Natasha, dumbfounded. She was not usually one for heart-to-hearts, tending to keep to herself. She also seemed to be so self-assured, so confident in herself, that hearing about her insecurities was a little jarring.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

“He signed the papers, we got divorced, I went to school. I worked my way through the ranks. I thought about him every day. Every person I dated, I compared to him. I kept thinking that my love for him would die, that there was no way he was the person I was remembering. Then when I started working with you and Sharon, I saw him again. He had married again but they were having trouble. After a year he got divorced again.

“Then one night we went out, got drunk, slept together and I remembered how wonderful he was. How sweet and nice he was. I realized that my memories weren’t exaggerated, that he was exactly as I remembered. I left before he woke up.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Steve asked. “Do you want a hug?”

Natasha laughed. “No, no, I’m fine. Just—it’s Clint. The whole song and dance was never about him winning _me_ over. It has always been about me staying constant for him."

Steve gasped at that. His mind raced as he thought about all of Natasha and Clint’s interactions through the years. How she had been so cool to him in the beginning, then started to thaw. He remembered them at Comic Con, how happy Natasha had been, and realized that must have been their newest beginning. He thought of all of the parallels between Natasha and himself. They both distanced people because they didn’t think they deserved to be loved. Steve assumed Natasha’s problem stemmed from whatever had caused her to leave Russia while Steve’s insecurities were because of Brock. He was overcome by a feeling of sadness for Natasha, that she felt so unloveable, and a deep sympathy for Clint, who loved her for who she was, insecurities and all.

Natasha waited patiently as Steve thought and thought. Finally he spoke, “So it’s possible? That someone can love a person who's like us?”

She nodded and turned away. “Yes.” Her voice sounded scratchy. “Clint loves me and I believe Bucky loves you. If you don’t want to jump into a relationship with him, no one will blame you. But Steve, you and I are both worthy of being loved. Don't do what I did and throw it away.” She got up and Steve heard her mumble “sorry” as she left.

\-----

Sharon washed Becca’s hair while Bucky stayed in the waiting area. Bucky had been to the salon before, but he was no less impressed this visit. He knew from talking with Steve that Natasha had designed everything. The walls, all but one, were arctic white. The accent wall, which was the main focal point of the salon, was blood red and covered in black and white photographs of the different stylists and clients, like a huge mosaic. Natasha had arranged the pictures so the red peeked out in to form a large, stylised hourglass shape. All the furniture was plush and black and the accent pillows were in different metallic fabrics.

When Sharon was done with Becca, she walked up to Bucky, while he was trying to pass the time by playing with his phone. Nothing would keep his interest, so he found himself opening and closing app after app, just to open up the first app and repeat the process. He felt the first stirrings of hope when Sharon didn’t immediately ask him to leave.

“Well, it went as expected,” she said. “Steve’s pissed but not angry. Pissed I can deal with. He doesn’t want you to leave. But you should probably hang out here for a little longer.”

Bucky nodded. “OK. Thanks. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

Sharon, unusually awkward, gestured to the salon floor. “I better go. Stick around? Maybe when he’s done he’ll come talk to you?” It was the first time Bucky had seen her be less than completely put together.

So Bucky waited. And waited. James and Violet came over after Violet’s cut, and entertaining her helped to pass the time for a few minutes, but then Violet fell asleep and Bucky didn’t have her as a distraction anymore. He kept glancing at the salon floor. He could see Steve finishing up Becca’s hair, posture stiff with tension. He started to get up to leave. This was making everything worse. He shouldn’t be here, he was clearly bothering Steve. Why had he agreed to come. His breathing started to get a little erratic and he went to stand up.

James reached out and gently grabbed his arm. “Becca asked if he wanted you to leave. He said no. Stay in case he wants to talk.”

Bucky sat back down. “I’m not screwing things up?” he asked in a little voice.

James shrugged. “I dunno. Probably not.”

Finally Becca’s appointment was done and she went to the front desk to pay. When she was done she made her way to Bucky and gave him a sad look. “He’s a great guy, Bucky. I understand why you fell for him. I hope this made things better instead of worse.” She took Violet, who was still asleep, from James and gave her a little snuggle. “We need to get back, we’ve got a bit of a trip home.”

Bucky looked down at his feet. “Yeah, OK. Thanks, both of you. I’m glad you got to meet him. Safe trip.” Becca kissed his cheek and James pulled him into a half hug.

“Text me tomorrow, yeah?” Becca asked as she struggled to get Violet’s coat on. Bucky couldn’t force words out so he nodded.

After his family left, Bucky sunk back down into the chair. He watched Steve sweep and straighten up his station. He stopped breathing as Steve turned and started to walk towards him.

“We should talk,” he said softly to Bucky.

\-----

“Did you know Natasha and Clint used to be married?” Steve blurted out. Steve had never been so thankful to have keys and an alarm code to the salon as he was at this moment. His apartment was close but he wanted to have this talk in neutral territory, so he and Bucky were sitting across from each other briefly catching each other's eye and then looking down. Because forget the fact that they were full-grown men, emotions were _hard_.

Bucky gave him a puzzled look. “No. I didn't know that.”

Steve cringed, internally. “She just told me. I had no idea. She told me people like me and her deserved love too. I don't—” Steve whispered. “I don't know what I want right now.” His voice started to raise to his normal volume. “I don't know if this is going to work out between us. I know I overreacted, but—”

Bucky started shaking his head. “No, no, don't do that. I _knew_ your insecurities. I'm so sorry that I put you into that space again. I can't _apologize_ enough for making you feel like that. I'm so fucking sorry, Steve. You're such an amazing guy and I'm sorry to have hurt you, even accidentally.”

Steve looked down at his hands. He was picking at his cuticles again. He _hated_ the nervous tic. He looked up at Bucky, who was staring to the right of Steve, unwilling to make eye contact.

“Thanks for letting me meet your family,” Steve said, whispering again.

“Thanks for talking to me,” Bucky replied. “Becca’s hair looked amazing.”

“Did you really tell Becca about me that day?” Steve was apparently just blurting out whatever was on his mind.

“Yeah, yeah, I did.” Bucky chuckled a little. “Sharon yelled at me a little and told me what you overheard. And I know I said that I wasn't seeing anybody, but in the very next breath I told Becca all about you. I wasn't trying to hide you from her—I just—I don't know. She can be a little overbearing?

“And it was so stupid and I'm so sorry.”

Steve was back to picking at his cuticles. “OK. OK. I have a lot to think about. And it's getting late. I'll text you later, I promise. I just—this has been a lot today. I need to go home and think.”

Bucky left and Steve locked up and started his walk home. He grunted at Sharon when he walked in and went straight to his room. He grabbed his robe and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. It was cold outside but working in a building filled with hair dryers meant he was always sweaty at work. He turned the shower up as hot as he could stand, and just let the water cascade down his back. He didn't let himself think, just went through the motions of washing up. He finished and went back to his room. Sharon was no longer in the living room, so Steve didn't have to talk to her. He was grateful that she knew him well enough to know that he needed to be alone.

He crawled into bed, hair still wet, gave himself a little bit of time to cry. His mind was a confusing jumble of trying to decide what to do next. He was willing to admit that he had overreacted, that Bucky wasn’t trying to hide him like a shameful secret. He thought back to his conversation with Natasha; her declaration that they deserved love. He thought about Clint, who was willing to give Natasha time and distance and ultimately another chance at loving each other. He wondered if Bucky was willing to give _him_ that chance.

His mind was spinning, but he knew what he _had_ to do.

\-----

Bucky was in bed. Sure, it was only like _Violet's_ bedtime, but it had been an eventful Wednesday. He was snuggling with his pillow and had _Coco_ on his laptop. He knew it was going to make him cry, but honestly, at this point, he needed a good cry.

He was in prime sniffling mode when someone knocked on his door. “Wha—” he slurred. “Leave me ‘lone, Peter or Wade. Wanna be sad.”

One of his asshole roommates knocked again. “What?!?” he shouted.

“Can I come in?” he asked. Bucky still wasn’t sure if it was Peter or Wade, but he was assuming it was Wade because he was like a mother-hen in stressful situations.

“Whatever. I’m not stopping my movie.”

The door opened and Bucky’s eyes got huge and the unshed tears from the movie started to fall. “St—Steve? What are you doing here?”

Steve walked in and stood by Bucky’s bed, making himself as small as possible, fists loosely clenched at his sides. His hair was sticking out at odd angles, he had clearly just thrown his pea-coat over his flannel pajama pants, and finished off the look with his snow boots. He looked nothing like the polished man Bucky met at the Black Swan months ago. Bucky knew how vulnerable he was making himself by allowing Bucky to see him in his least put-together state. He was the most beautiful thing Bucky had ever seen.

He cleared his throat and looked at Bucky. “I just...I want to apologize. I'm so sorry, Bucky. I know I went about everything the wrong way and I'm sorry for hurting you. But if—if you still want me, I would be happy to be _yours_.”

Bucky could barely see through his tears and the way his eyes were crinkling from smiling so hard. “Steeb!” he blubbered.

Steve’s cheeks were tinged a delicate shade of pink and he closed his eyes and smiled. “You’re embarrassing yourself, Buck.”

“Shut up. Come here and hug me,” he replied and he unwound himself from his blanket. Steve nodded and walked into Bucky’s arms. Bucky felt his cheeks heat at the sappy commentary his brain was supplying. But his brain was right: Steve felt like _home._

They had a lot to talk about, but Bucky didn’t want to talk right now. He wanted to clean up his face and snuggle and possibly hard-core make out with Steve. So he decided in the spirit of honestly to tell Steve exactly that.

“Sure. That sounds fun.” Steve laughed. “Gotta say, I did not expect things to go like this,” he admitted.

“No! No talking about things. Making out as soon as I get back from the bathroom and I’m not covered in snot and tears.”

“Gee, Bucky, you’re going to have to hold me back after that statement.” Steve smirked as Bucky gave him a haughty look and left. As soon as he walked out of his room, he was accosted by Peter and Wade.

“Hooray!” Wade whisper-shouted. “Steve’s here!”

“Did I just not hear him knock?” Bucky asked, still a little confused as to how Steve had been so stealthy.

Peter perked up. “That was me! He texted Kate and she texted me and I said it was fine for him to use a spare key as long as he was going to be nice. She said that he said that he was, so I told her to tell him it was fine.”

“There’s so much to unpack in that sentence, baby boy,” Wade whispered.

“How do you have Kate’s number?” Bucky asked.

“Comic Con.”

Bucky nodded. “Got it.”

Suddenly Steve shouted, “I can hear everything you’re saying. Your whispering is not nearly as quiet as you think.”

Bucky and Wade burst into laughter while Peter looked a little put out. “My whispering is _plently_ quiet,” he declared.

“Sweetie, not the hill you want to die on. Come, on, let’s give Bucky and Steve some _alone time_.” Wade leered at Bucky and waggled his non-existent eyebrows.

Bucky rolled his eyes and went into the bathroom. He quickly washed his face and put some of the face lotion on that Steve had given him. He hadn’t known anything about what he needed for his skincare routine, so the small present had delighted him. Refreshed, he went back to his room—and back to Steve, who was out of his boots and jacket and looked wonderfully rumpled and cozy in his too-big t-shirt and striped pajama bottoms. Bucky had to close his eyes for a moment to keep himself from crying again.

They did make out for a while, but between sessions they talked about their feelings. It was neither easy, nor enjoyable. Steve told the entire story about Brock and Amy and feeling like he was never good enough and Bucky cried a little and apologized a lot. Steve cried a little at that and told Bucky that he understood that Bucky was _nothing_ like Brock. He apologized for ever thinking he would treat Steve like that. Bucky listened patiently as he shared Natasha’s whole story. He was touched when he realized the trust that Natasha must have in Steve, and by extension, him, to have shared something so intimate. He hadn’t had a lot of interactions with her, but knew she was an extremely private person and while he wanted to thank her for entrusting Steve with her personal life, he was, quite frankly, terrified of her.

They traded lazy kisses and declarations of intent until Bucky couldn’t keep his big adult-type feelings to himself.

“You know I’m in love with you, right?”

Steve stared at him, astonishment clear on his face. “Why?”

“Steve—you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re hot as hell. You make me feel so much and all of it's good. I’m not saying we won’t have fights, but right now I can’t imagine my life with anyone else.”

Steve started crying again. “I love you, too.”

After talking most of the night, they fell asleep a few hours before Bucky’s alarm went off. Bucky was especially happy to work from home after such a short night. They dragged themselves out of bed and were pleasantly surprised when they got to the kitchen and saw the note Wade had left for them on the kitchen table.

 

> B and S,
> 
> Heh, BS. Anyway. I made you something. It’s probably not still warm because Bucky’s lazy ass (just kidding Bucky, I love your ass almost as much as I love Peter’s) anyway, Petey and I get up lots earlier than Bucky. So it might be cold. But the plate on the right is for Bucky and the plate on the left is for Steve.
> 
> I love you crazy dudes!
> 
> Wade
> 
> P.S. Oh, yeah, Peter reminded me, the plates are in the oven.

Bucky opened the over door to discover Wade had made them heart pancakes. Bucky’s had an S on top in chocolate chips while Steve’s had a B. Bucky took a quick picture and sent it to Wade with a line of exclamation marks and hearts.

 **[Wade]** yah, u can eat ur love in pancakes

 **[Wade]** don’t fuck in the kitchen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter titles are from this quote
> 
>     “It’s the hard things that break; soft things don’t break. It was an epiphany I had today and I just wonder why it took me so very, very long to see it! You can waste so many years of your life trying to become something hard in order not to break; but it’s the soft things that can’t break! The hard things are the ones that shatter into a million pieces!”  
> ― C. JoyBell C.
> 
> We are [Alby_mangroves](https://artgroves.tumblr.com) and [Pineau_noir](https://pineau-noir.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


	10. we deserve a soft epilogue, my love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just a sweet, soft, porny epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is from this [ heartbreaking poem](https://pineau-noir.tumblr.com/post/179162977539/cardiamachina-somebody-requested-a-masterpost), written about Steve and Bucky by Nikka Ursula.
> 
>     I think we deserve  
> a soft epilogue, my love.  
> We are good people  
> and we've suffered enough.
> 
> And if that doesn't make you want to cry a little, then you're clearly a stronger person than me.

It had been six months since Bucky and Steve’s reunion and Bucky’s lease was up for renewal. 

“I’m just sayin’, Bucky, me and Petey can take over everything if you and Steve want to find a place. ‘Cause I know we all love each other, but it might be time to start another chapter of your life.” Once again Wade was surprisingly astute.

Bucky brought the topic up to Steve, who furrowed his brow. “Sharon’s been talking about wanting to travel. They’re plotting. Our roommates are plotting!”

Bucky giggled. “I mean, it’s not like they're plotting _against_ us? And let’s be honest, how long would it have taken us to figure this part out by ourselves?”

Steve sighed. “Whatever. You’re free to move in with me. Apparently, Sharon inherited the apartment from her great-aunt and has been undercharging me on rent and doesn’t actually have to work. She said as long as we keep her room the same, we can keep paying what I’ve been paying; so we can pay off our student loans faster.”

Bucky sighed longingly. That was the dream, living with Steve in a glamorous apartment and paying off his student debts.

A few weeks after that, he and Steve were _living together_. They had gone through everything in the two apartments and decided what was worth bringing and what Peter and Wade could keep. Most of the big furniture they left because Sharon’s was just so much nicer. But here he and Steve were, relaxing in _their_ room, on _their_ bed.

“You know, Sharon’s not coming home tonight. She’s staying the night with Peggy and Gabe in Boston,” Steve said and waggled his eyebrows.

“I _did_ know that, because I live here too.” Bucky smirked. Steve was adorable. Bucky rolled over and snuggled over into Steve’s side. “What do you want to do?” he murmured.

“I was thinking we could shower and get you real clean, then I could braid your hair and boss you around?” Steve had a huge smile on his face. Bucky felt his cheeks heat.

They had learned, fairly quickly, that they both enjoyed it when Steve pampered Bucky and then took control. They knew what they did was still fairly vanilla, but it was something fun. Bucky nodded at Steve. His suggestion sounded perfect.

Steve did a little striptease and Bucky’s mouth was dry when he got down to his underthings. Steve must have been planning on seduction because he was wearing Bucky’s favorite undies. They were blue and white striped briefs that seemed to be a size too small because Steve’s ass cheeks hung out a little in the back. That, coupled with his white muscle shirt, made Bucky’s breath stutter.

Steve turned around and winked. “Got dressed up for ya,” he responded to Bucky’s unasked question. Bucky gaped at him a little more.

They finished undressing and ran naked through the apartment, giggling and teasing each other; they were _definintely_ taking advantage of having the place to themselves. The apartment had a spacious bathroom with a large walk-in shower and a separate bath. Steve started the water and got it up to the right temperature before he let Bucky get in.

They traded lazy kisses and soft touches under the gentle spray of the shower. Sharon had one of the really nice rainfall showerheads installed, which made it feel like the height of luxury. It definitely beat the creaky-piped, lukewarm shower at his old place.

Steve grabbed Bucky’s ass, a little possessively, and Bucky groaned, Steve’s fingernails adding a fun bite to the sensation. “Do you want me inside you?” he asked. “I don’t want to pressure you, but cleaning will be a little different if we decide on that.”

Bucky felt sparks light up at his core. “Yeah, yeah, let’s do that. It’s been a while,” he said, his voice a little gruff.

Steve reached up, dragging Bucky’s mouth to his own and nipping at Bucky’s bottom lip. Bucky took the hint and opened his mouth so Steve could explore. Steve licked into his mouth and Bucky shivered. He retaliated by gently capturing Steve’s tongue with his teeth and letting them softly scrape it as Steve moved his tongue out of Bucky’s mouth. They took turns licking and nipping and groaning until Bucky was rutting against Steve a little.

“OK, OK,” Steve gasped. “We’re not going to hump each other to death in the shower. I’ve got better plans for tonight.”

Bucky nodded. His head felt a little fuzzy and he was happy Steve could make the decisions.

“Turn around, sweetheart, let me wash your hair.”

Bucky sighed when he felt Steve’s fingers run through his hair. Steve lathered him up and made him rinse, then used his clever fingers to give Bucky a scalp massage with the conditioner. Bucky tipped his head back as far as he could to give Steve better access and Steve rewarded him by capturing Bucky’s ear in his mouth and tracing designs on his earlobe with his tongue. All the while, Steve kept gently digging his fingers into Bucky’s scalp. 

“Rinse, baby.” Steve used a lot of pet names when he was horny. Bucky liked it. A lot. They worked together to rinse the conditioner out of his hair and Steve crowded up behind him. He could feel Steve’s cock hot against his thighs as Steve snaked his arms around Bucky so he could tease his nipples. Bucky had never really thought about his nipples as being such a sensitive area—he had assumed it was something porn played up for the audience, but Steve had figured out what made Bucky go _wild_. Rough little tweaks and sharp pinches had him gasping for breath. 

“Good boy,” Steve said in a wrecked voice. Bucky bucked his hips, looking for some friction, but finding none.

Steve’s hands went in opposite directions, one gently pulling on Bucky’s hair and the other rubbing a finger up and down Bucky’s crack. Steve stood on his tiptoes and bit Bucky hard, where his neck met his right shoulder and they both groaned. Bucky couldn’t think; the dual sensations of the sharp pain at his scalp and the gentle stroking at his hole shorting out his brain.

Suddenly, Steve’s hands were gone, and Bucky whined but Steve just shushed him. “Can’t clean you without soap,” he explained. Bucky nodded and felt Steve’s finger back at his entrance. He shivered despite the warm shower. They didn’t do _this_ a lot and getting used to having something in him took a little bit of time. It was something they both enjoyed. A long and leisurely prep time meant that Steve could pull all kinds of grunts and groans from Bucky. 

What must have been just the tip of Steve’s finger slipped in, but to Bucky it felt like so much more; it wasn’t a bad sensation, just something very intimate. Steve twisted his finger a little and Bucky went up on his toes and let out a little squeak.

Steve let out a low chuckle and ran his free hand up and down Bucky’s side in a soothing manner. “It’s OK, I know it’s a little weird. You’ll get used to it. Or we’ll stop. Don’t worry.”

Bucky nodded dumbly, his sex brain not being very eloquent. Steve’s finger slid a little deeper and Bucky reached out to steady himself on the shower wall. Steve’s other hand went from soothing him to teasing his nipple again. Bucky was at turns hot and cold, the finger inside him twisting and turning and making him groan.

“Steve!” Bucky squeaked. He was not going to last much longer if Steve kept teasing him. Steve gave one last thrust and pinch and let Bucky go.

“OK, sweet boy, let’s finish this up so I can finish pampering you.”

Steve efficiently washed himself, paying close attention to his hands, and then gently herded Bucky out of the shower. Bucky wrapped his hair up in a towel and they both dried themselves off then made their way to their room.

Steve pulled the duvet and top sheet back so Bucky could sit down. He unwound Bucky’s hair and grabbed the brush to work out the tangles. Bucky sighed into his touch. This was one of his favorite things. Steve didn’t mind using his skills as a stylist when it was for Bucky; in fact, he said he really loved taking care of him when they were about to have sex. And Bucky had always known he was part cat, so having Steve pet him and brush and braid his hair was something he hoped he would never take for granted.

Steve placed a kiss at the base if Bucky’s neck. “Ok, that’s done. How do you want me to get you ready?”

Bucky thought for a few moments. He liked being on his back because he could watch Steve, and it had the added bonus of his cock being free to be teased either by hands or Steve’s mouth. But he also liked being on his hands and knees, because he didn’t have to contort himself as much and he could close his eyes and focus solely on the pleasure. He finally decided he wanted to watch, so he flopped on his back and let his legs spread open.

Steve smiled. “OK, sounds good to me.” He reached for the discarded towel and made Bucky lift his hips so he could lay it under him. Bucky wriggled so his hips were in the middle and he smiled up at Steve.

“Do you want to come while I’m opening you up, or when I’m inside of you? I don’t care either way; you’re so sweet when I’m in you and you’re all come happy, but you make the best noises when you haven’t come yet.

“I’ll warn you now, if you wait, I’m going to hold you to that, no matter how close I get you.”

Bucky shivered a little. Once again, what they were doing was probably considered so tame— but because it was _Steve_ doing it to _him_ , it felt so much more exciting than most of Bucky’s previous sexual experiences. 

“I—” he cleared his throat. “I want you to make me wait.”

Steve’s gaze turned dark. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s what I wanted too.”

Steve crawled up to capture Bucky’s mouth with his own. Bucky writhed under him. He could feel sweat gathering where their bodies met, the lingering summer humidity mingling with the residual warmth of the shower. Bucky didn’t mind; they were clean and it helped prevent bad friction.

After a few minutes of kissing, Steve reached over to grab the lube and slithered between Bucky’s legs, where he gave Bucky a hot look. Bucky was incredibly turned on and his toes curled a little as he looked at Steve. Bucky was so stupidly in love with him—he loved his crazy post-shower hair, blond and pink and purple spikes everywhere, still all angles, long fingers that knew just where to tease—but mostly he loved his soul. Steve had been hurt so badly, yet here he was with Bucky, letting himself be vulnerable, letting himself be loved.

“OK, you can’t come until I’m inside you. You can whine and beg as much as you want, but unless you tap out, I’m not going to stop. Are you still happy with this plan?”

Bucky smiled and nodded. “Four taps and we quit. Still want it, Steve.”

Then Steve was slicking his fingers and Bucky was writhing on the bed. He was still a little loose from the shower, but it had only been one finger and he needed a lot more prep before Steve’s cock would fit inside.

Steve took him in his mouth to ease the stretch of two fingers. Bucky groaned long and loud. His hips started to move and Steve made a disapproving noise in his throat. Properly chastised, Bucky stilled his hips. He just felt _so much_. Steve’s mouth was so wet and hot as he hollowed his cheeks and gently started scissoring his fingers. The stretch was probably uncomfortable but Bucky couldn’t pay much attention to it because all of his focus was on what Steve was doing to his dick.

Steve did that _thing_ with his tongue and fingers and Bucky was gasping, “Close, Steve. Fuck. I’m close.”

Steve lifted his head up and stilled his fingers. His lips were cherry red and shiny and Bucky had to close his eyes for a minute. He was so overwhelmed by love and lust. He took a couple of deep breaths and opened his eyes and glared at his penis. 

“You’re going to have to be patient,” he said sternly.

Steve burst into laughter. “You’re so weird. Let me—let me move a little. Wanna kiss you.” 

Bucky grunted because moving while Steve had two fingers in him was _weird_. But he eagerly returned Steve’s kisses until Steve’s fingers twitched and the angle was just right and his head fell back and he panted.

“OK, let’s get back to the main attraction,” Steve said with a smirk.

A few minutes later and Steve was up to three fingers, gently teasing his prostate and it felt like he was trying to suck Bucky’s brain out through his dick.

“ _Steve_! Stop! I’m—”

Once again, Steve stilled his fingers and moved his mouth. 

Bucky was gasping, nearly sobbing in frustration. Steve gave him a soft smile. “You’ve been such a good boy, listening and following directions,” he crooned. Then he dropped the smile. “If I don’t get inside of you soon, my cock is going to fall off.” Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Do you want me on top?”

“Sides?” Bucky suggested. That was the easiest way, and as wound up as he was, he didn’t want to be scrunched up. He also wanted the closeness of Steve’s body wrapped around him.

“OK, I’ll get the condom, and lube up, if you want to make yourself comfortable.”

Bucky nodded. He rolled over on his right, making sure to keep the towel in front of him, and moved his left leg up and out a little so he opened a little more. This was a favorite position of Bucky’s, pre-dating Steve, so he knew exactly how to adjust himself to makes things feel good.

Steve was a hot form at his back. He was perched on his elbow and was able to nip at Bucky’s ear. “You’re so sweet for me. I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Stevie. Please fuck me?” he whined.

Steve laughed again and gave him a little swat on his ass. “OK, let me just—”

They both gasped as Steve slid in. He stilled his hips until Bucky got used to the intrusion and then rocked forward. “Comfortable? Uncomfortable?”

“Good,” gasped Bucky. “Real good.”

“Do you want a little more?”

Bucky groaned. “Yes, please.”

They followed that pattern a few more times until Steve’s hips were flush against Bucky’s ass. Bucky rocked back, teasing Steve a little. He appreciated all the check-ins so much, but, as he was already really wound up from the prep, he wanted to get fucked. So he decided to vocalize that want.

“Steve. Please. Fuck me?”

Steve’s breathing went a little erratic. Bucky knew what wound Steve up too. Steve’s hips started rolling and Bucky sighed out a “thanks”. After a few minutes of careful rolls, Steve started to pick up speed.

That knocked a grunt out of Bucky. “Yeah, yeah, like that. Can I touch myself?”

Steve moaned. “Can I?” he asked.

“Yeah, please, just—I need—” his voice went up in a shriek as Steve’s lube-covered hand snaked around to grab his dick. He began thrusting into Steve’s hand which, when they finally got the right coordination, meant that he was fucking into Steve as Steve fucked into him. 

All he could manage was rhythmic gasps of “uh uh uh”. 

“Can I? Steve, please? I’ve been good.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, whenever you want. You’re so good for me. So sweet. I thought about how beautiful you would be when I fucked you, so many times. And my imagination wasn’t nearly as good as the real thing.”

Bucky’s hearing shorted out and his eyes slammed shut as he came all over Steve’s hand and their towel. Steve was still rambling behind him when Bucky finished and melted into a boneless lump.

“Yeah, now you’re so soft and pretty and I love you and, oh, oh—” Steve’s hips stuttered and he moaned.

Then he let his elbow fall and collapsed behind Bucky, kissing his shoulders and neck and back, wherever he could reach in his prone state. Bucky wriggled a little; now that his cock was out of the picture, having Steve in him wasn’t as fun. Steve got the hint and pulled out, giving him one last kiss before rolling over for the wipes. Bucky heard a weird stretching noise that he assumed was the condom coming off, and then there was a cold wipe washing his front. Most of the come had gotten on the towel, but Steve was nothing if not thorough.

Bucky rolled over to his back to watch Steve. After he had everything disposed of, Steve melted into Bucky’s side. Bucky placed a gentle kiss on Steve’s shower and sex-mussed hair. “I already like living together,” he said.

“Yeah, me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everybody who has read, subscribed, commented, and given kudos! There are a ton of great fics this bang, Alby has done art for four of them (they're all amazing, check them out) and there are a bunch of really clever people arting and writing. 
> 
> I can't believe this journey is over. I've been thinking about these boys for close to half a year and honestly, I'll probably cry a little when this chapter officially posts. I hope you enjoyed my words and Alby's art. It was an amazing experience.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated and squeed over. ❤
> 
> Come see Pineau_noir on [Tumblr](https://pineau-noir.tumblr.com/) where I reblog Stucky, Spideypool, things that make me laugh, things that are important to me, and cute animals. I'm way too old to understand how it all works.
> 
> Come see Alby_mangroves on [Tumblr](https://artgroves.tumblr.com) where she shows off her incredible art. She's the real deal y'all.


End file.
